Long ago, I heard that for every life that departs, another emerges. I recall sitting in the front row of my husband’s grandfather’s graveside service twenty-two years ago, going into labor with our oldest daughter. With all my might, I hoped and prayed that this saying wasn’t true, for I sooooo didn’t think that having my child at the graveside was the time or place.
Today, I was reminded of that saying.
Just outside one of our sliding glass doors, we have a potted ficus tree that mama humming birds love to make their nests in each year. This year was no exception. My kids and I have had the greatest fun watching the progress of the nest building, laying of eggs, roosting of the mama, eggs cracking open and two perfect little humming birds emerging and growing stronger by the day.
Today, I asked my daughter to go and point to the baby birds from the outside so I could get our granddaughter to look directly at them. When my daughter went out and snapped a coupe of photos, one of the baby birds, not yet a flyer, jumped out of the nest!
Oh, no!
There was an eternity that seemed to span as we watched its wobbly flight pattern, hoping with all our might that it would sail off into the blue sky or back into the nest instead of landing on the concrete below.
As we held our breath, the baby bird flapped its wings with as much gusto as it could muster and eventually managed to fly off without crash-landing.
Thank goodness!
Standing inside, I held my granddaughter tight, her delighting in the show. My mind turned to a phone call I’d received earlier in the morning, informing me that my father had passed away after a two-week struggle. Once again, I thought of that day, twenty-two years ago when I went into labor at the graveside. But this time, I didn’t fight the notion that for every life that parts, another begins.
Watching the baby hummingbird struggle to gain its balance in the air, I cheered it on, pleased that such a gentle creature was emerging into a new life just as my father’s had come to a close.
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