Momma Bird

Mother's Day came and went. I spent the entire week not thinking about it, and mostly wishing it would come and go. I've always thought Valentines Day, Mother's Day and Father's Day were mostly a day for the greeting card companies to convince us that we need to honor the people in our lives that we should be honoring every day anyway - and by the way purchase an overpriced card and some other stuff. I know, it's a little cynical. Kyle and I have a mutual agreement about Valentine's Day, but on Mother's Day and Father's Day I always enjoyed buying Mom and Dad something. Mom rarely shopped for herself because she'd much rather shop for other people. So buying her something was a wide open field. She didn't fit into the category of "what do you buy the person who has everything?"

So although my own children would be shopping for Mother's Day - albeit through the prompting of their Dad - I really didn't have much to think about on Mother's Day this year. Or so I thought.

It was a picture perfect Spring Day. We attended early church service and were out by 10 a.m. Kyle did stir-fry on the grill outside and I sat and watched (yes there are perks to Mother's Day). Under the awning and between the two floodlights on the patio is a snug little nest that the most persistent robin built. Her fortitude astounded us several weeks ago as she continued to bring in twigs and tuck them between the lights. We tried to tell her it was a risky place to build a nest - too close to human life and hot wires. Kyle kept tearing the half-built nest down and encouraging her to find another place. Like the stubborn mother bird that she is, she didn't listen. In fact, one evening she defied our efforts to protect her and built the nest. We woke up one morning to a complete nest with twigs, branches and the mysterious mud that holds it all together. It was done. Nothing to do but allow her to settle in and lay her eggs. Which is exactly what she did. Three little blue eggs. Now, part of the deal that we struck with Momma Bird was that her close proximity to us gave us the inalienable right to document her motherhood. Which we have...and continue to do.

In between stirring the stir-fry, Kyle took the camera and invaded the nest while Momma was out. I'm too short, and so the photos of the inside of the nest are his. I like to give credit where it's due. He snapped photos while Momma sat on the fence and fussed. As long as we don't touch the nest or the eggs or the baby birds, they are safe. So we're careful. We ate out on the patio and watched Momma as she sat on her eggs and tried to ignore us. She has a very determined look on her face, as you can see. We may be too close for her comfort, but she endured our human presence and stayed on that nest most of the day.

The kids gave me my Mother's Day - each of the three picked out their own gift: a CD from Colin (Bruce Springsteen Live...he did good) a book from Erin (always a good choice) and a book from Alison about mothers. It was all perfect and I loved each gift and the sweet attitudes the children had all day. No complaining, no rolling eyes, no arguments or whining. It was nice and I truly loved my gifts. But there was something about watching that Momma Bird that completed this day. A few times she perched on the side of the nest and just stared down into it. I don't suppose birds think, but I had to wonder. Was she waiting for them to peck out so she could see her babies? Was she worried about them? Was she wanting to make sure that hers was the first bird-face they would see when their eyes finally opened to the world? At one point, Daddy Bird (we're making assumptions here, but hoping) came to her and brought her a worm. Fed it straight to her from his beak to hers. Amazing. I hesitate to say that this chunky robin gave me a picture of motherhood on Mother's Day, but I'm saying it anyway. Maybe that's reaching, but I believe that God's creation can give us beautiful pictures if we'll just take the time to sit still and look around. I know...all creatures except humans survive and thrive and live on instinct. But instinct looked quite a bit like motherhood on Sunday, and it was worth watching for a while. And as I sat with my Mother's Day gifts on the table beside me and watched Momma Bird and her nest of babies, I mentally added them to my pile of gifts, and said a prayer of thanks for such a beautiful world.

Yes, I missed my own mother. But I knew that if she had been sitting there with me, she would have understood that even though the purchased gifts are nice, the gifts that we can't buy are the best. She was that kind of mother.