Oh, the Places You'll Go!

My mother, she loved nature. She loved digging in the dirt, grew anything that took root, and she loved just to be outdoors. She was born a Prairie woman living in the wrong century. Gardening and weeds I understood, Bonsai plants and rose bushes, they are beautiful. The birds though, I never comprehended her fondness for birds. They flew away too fast, hard to spot in a tree, and most of all, took her attention away from me. By the time she lived on a farm I was a young mother and our visits most precious--it was time with my mother. And when six-year-old daughter of mine got bit by a chicken, her fear of birds grew wings for life. Mine, it festered, this idea that all mothers need to be perfect, joyful regardless, attentive and loving. Every moment. Every day. Now, after all these years, I get her. And I am getting God. Is there any higher form of love than choosing to embrace the truth? All is Grace. All is Good. All is Forgiven. Mothers are not perfect and I like that idea, it liberates the spirit and all is free.

When my husband told me the name of our vacation destination this year, Chincoteague Island, I wondered at the possibilities for exploration and sight-seeing. Is it safe for granddaughter? Will we have enough to do? Are there any decent coffee shops? Once we arrived, settled in, shook off travel dust, I took a look around. And for the next three days, I kept on looking. For birds. Specifically, Northern Cardinal.

I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder. ~Gilbert Keith Chesterton~

And I thank Him for the beautiful, the past mirrored in present, Him understanding that I too, love birds. The wonder, it bubbles inside and I can't get enough.

Once the past is laid to rest, all dirt swept away, the flying high, it begins as promised. The hoping to be loved, it rings right true, and the wings they fan out, unfettered and free.

 

Hope, the thing that perched deep down in young mother's soul, it never gave up, it whispered in the dark, beckoned faltering steps forward. One step, one moment, one breath at a time.

My mother, she loved birds. My mother, she was imperfect. My mother, she was rightly loved.

 

Oh, the places you will go! You will be on your way up! You will be seeing great sights! You'll join the high fliers who soar to high heights You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed. You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly you'll be the best of the best. Wherever you go, you'll top all the rest.

Except when you don't, because sometimes you won't. ~Dr. Seuss~