Fly Like a Bird (a clip of Helen and me singing at our benefit concert.)

Well, today was the day. The day we moved Helen to school. The moment the  soundtrack to our daily lives changed, forever.

This is the day, as parents, we look forward to. Not because our fledgling is gone, but because she can fly. I can’t feel sadness. How could I? She’s wonderful. But I can feel the pain of separation. And, that is what I think we all fear most and try to avoid. The pain of separation.

Flying high

I could give you a blow- by-blow of the events. From my avoidance (not going upstairs at all through most of this week), to the the tearful goodbyes of the younger sibs, or the sweet note she left for Henry, and the gut-punch sound when it finally hit my dear spouse. We both kept so busy focusing on the process to try to avoid the inevitable feelings of disbelief that we could even be at this stage in our lives. Our daughter could not possibly be leaving our safe little nest.

But she is. And it’s good. (We’re happy she’s not too far away.) It’s her turn to fly,  and our turn to sit back and wonder how high.

Fly like a bird to the Lord, my soul.
I want to soar like an eagle.
Though I may journey far away from home,
I know I’ll never be alone.

O God, you know who I am.
You know my hopes and my dreams.
In my pondering and fears,
in my joy and in my tears,
O God, your presence is real.

Where can I run from your love?
Where can I hide from my God?
From the dawn of morning’s light
to the darkness of the night,
O God, your presence is real.

–Ken Canedo