Finding Faith ... in watching one more of our little chicks fly the home nest

And then there was one. … Sigh. … Deep breath. … Sigh, again.

Just one little chick left in our nest at home.

As in our oldest daughter, Ava, recently made the big move out to her own apartment. … But at least for this old, sappy dad, it’s an apartment here in town! I’ll still be able to stop by to do “Dad Things,” like offer redundant life advice, and replace a lightbulb or two.

You know, the funny thing about raising kids … is that you spend nearly two decades raising them in the hopes that one day they’ll fly out of your nest and live wildly, successful, independent lives. … Without you. .. Or, at the very least, minimally without you.

And then what happens?

They gather up a ragtag collection of thrift store furniture, and hand-me-down kitchen appliances, and take their high school posters off the wall, and move it all to an apartment across town that you wish was just a little closer, a little more well lit, in a little quieter neighborhood and maybe, you know, was closer to a police/fire/ambulance/hospital station.

But, you know, other than that, things are good. … I’m good. .. And I’m perfectly happy for my BooBear.

She’s ready to fly. … And, you know … I like the quiet here at home, and the extra empty room reminding me of our kids’ inevitable exit, and that time doesn’t reverse its course.

Oh holy moly, who sliced the onion in here? … Honestly, a guy’s trying to work here.

You’d think after watching the third little gosling jump from the high branch you’d get better at this letting go thing. … But here I am not killin’ it. … At best, I am ... well, coming to accept it.

The third of the four has moved out. … Maybe, I should turn this upside down and pat myself and Shel on the back because of our success. … “Yay, we’ve pushed three of them out the door!”

But, alas … I would only be fooling myself. … I love being with our kids, and enjoy each of their individual personalities, and even better yet, the super human group we form when we’re all together. A lot like “The Incredibles,” but, you know … real.

Our mother was big on being together … a challenge considering there was 20 years between myself, the youngest, and our oldest brother, Dan. But man, did her eyes and spirit light up when the kids were together! It didn’t have to even be all of us. … Even if it was only a few of us!

I guess I inherited that gene. It’ll probably haunt our kids as they continue to create their own lives. … A friendly warning to them all.

Just what is the correct balance, I wonder … between wanting your grown kids to see the value of family, of being together, and letting them create their own stories, their own lives? If you have the secret sauce, this dad would be grateful to know the ingredients if you’d share! Call it an act of compassion!

Meanwhile, I’ll be here … torturing our youngest daughter, Siri, who will bear the mantle of the only kid at home for at least the next two years. … I mean, it’s a good deal for me, that this last chick can’t quite fly yet. … But y’all better be checkin’ in on her to be sure that I’m not driving her crazy! … Amen.