So my oldest child has flown the coop.
While hardly a kid anymore – he is 22
years old after all – he will always be a child because I was there
when he was barely old enough to lay in a crib and wiggle.
I know many people who watched as their
children spread their wings and took off, but to be perfectly honest,
at the time, I really didn't understand what the big deal was.
I moved out when I was a young man,
just like billions of other young people have done throughout the
course of time.
As the papa bear, it was my job to
raise my children to the point where they are able to move out on
their own, then it was “Don't let the door hit your butt on the
way out.”
I know a papa bear might not be the
best example of parenting in the wild because an adult male bear will
attack any other male bear that comes in his territory, even his own
child.
But considering male lions eat their
young, I think I will with the bruin analogy.
I have never attacked my kids, nor
threatened to eat them, so I guess I am doing OK.
Anyway, Junior reached an age where he
wanted to take off on his own, to explore new worlds, to live in a
different city than the one he was raised.
It was a day I had been thinking about
for years, but when the day came I was not doing cartwheels across
the lawn – mainly because I am way to old to be doing cartwheels
across the lawn - but also because I was not that thrilled with
Junior jumping from the nest.
What? What is this? What is this odd
feeling I have? I did my job, I raised him as best I could and now I
should be able to sit back, wave goodbye and get on with getting the
other two out of the house.
But instead of seeing a young man
spreading his wings, all I could see was the little boy who held so
many grasshoppers in one hand their guts were squishing between his
fingers.
Suddenly, the big, tough papa bear was
feeling more like a hormonal tween.
During the eight-hour drive to his new
city – I helped him move like any papa bear would – all I could
think of was the days gone by and the moments a father shares with
his young son.
Was I sad Junior was all grown up,
something I had worked hard to help make happen?
I surprised even myself because I was.
That can't be right. I'm the big tough
papa bear. It was the mama bear who was supposed to be sad little
bear is leaving the clan. Papa bear is the one who was supposed to
hold the door as Junior made an exit before doing a little dance
because it was one down and two to go.
But there I was, the big tough papa
bear feeling very melancholy about Junior leaving the cave.
I know it is how life works: you are
born, you are a baby, then a kid, then a teen, then a young man and
then you move out.
I was ready for it, prepared for it, at
times I was almost longing for it so imagine my surprise when I was
saddened by it.
With Junior gone there would be things
like left overs in the fridge, gas in my car and finally a spare room
where I could put my treadmill – yes I actually use the treadmill
for more than collecting dust.
Hmm, perhaps there is some good to
Junior flying the coop and striking out on his own. I just wonder if
his flight will imitate that of a homing pigeon.
I guess we will have to wait and see.
Copyright 2015, Darren Handschuh
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