The Ever-Evolving Nest
I’ve always held a certain fascination of nests. I collect fallen nests, a framed pencil sketch of a nest cradling three eggs hangs prominently in my family room, and over the past couple of years, I simply seem to see them everywhere. Although winter in Chicagoland can be unattractive in a multitude of senses, the trees’ bare branches reveal the otherwise hidden homes of many. Around here, it’s primarily bird and tree squirrel nests that decorate our woodland scenes, but did you know that many critters beyond birds build nests? Think racoons, frogs, sea turtles, alligators and dinosaurs. Even fish create such cozy beginnings for their babies.
There is something innately beautiful about the instinct, commitment, and (in some more evolved species) love that goes into establishing a nest. I’ve had the joy of witnessing birds collecting and depositing often recycled materials to make their babies’ future home a little safer, a little cushier. It’s a beautiful act to witness. We humans do things a bit differently, often researching and shopping for the perfect crib along with other functional and ornamental items to decorate a nursery. My reflection here today goes beyond the physicality of nests, however, to what transpires within them.
My boys are now 22, 20 and 16 years old, which is hard to wrap my head around. The older two have been home for the holidays and are now preparing to return to their homes away from home. It’s been wonderful and exhausting having our unit of five back together. These past few weeks have been busy for us moms, haven’t they? We’ve been scribing and fulfilling lists, decorating, wrapping gifts, entertaining, cooking special meals, baking seasonal delights…all while continuing to keep up with the core functions of our respective nests – chores like laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning, helping with homework, driving to extra-curricular events, and so on. What hit me the other day is how while those categorical activities are still relevant in my household, the roles of those involved have changed, they’ve evolved.
It’s no longer Doug and I who are dual-handedly doling out life-sustaining provisions, performing both core and odd jobs, and advising on points of etiquette. In fact, all in one day last week Ryan proactively offered to shovel the driveway, and Michael procured and fixed dinner. I can count on Aedan to regularly ask me how my day was or comment on a new piece of apparel that no one else has noticed. These evolutions in how the boys participate in the household have been happening slowly over time. Sometimes when changes mount gradually, however, we don’t notice them right away. Last week it stuck out to me just how much they’ve matured and how they now show me, teach me, help me. What a beautiful progression.
I expect we’ll always have dogs – our perpetual babies – who will need me in mostly predictable ways, year-after-year. There is both pleasure and pain associated with accepting that if we do our job well that our human babies will eventually fly away. But for now, my nest is not yet empty. Its residents come and go, sure, and I like to focus on their returns above their departures. I take pleasure in our nest’s continued evolution. I haven’t directly taught them or asked them to share their experiences and talents with us, so their behavior in doing so is reassurance that we’ve done something right. Because if I’m honest, there have been many days along the way when I feel like I haven’t done anything right! No matter how many of my babies are currently under-roof, I always have all three in my heart. They have already begun bringing their significant others around, even for over-night stays. So, I know I’ll blink, and they’ll be building families of their own. I hope I’ll always have an active nest, and I look forward to how my role will stay the same in some regards…and evolve in others.
Hugs!
