Message of the Falcon

Andy stood in the hallway, a basketball at his feet, pulling a sweatshirt on over his head. When did he get so tall? I wondered. When did his arms get so muscular? My son was definitely growing up. But a high-school senior was still a boy, right?

I’d all too recently waved good-bye to my newlywed daughter, who’d moved out of town. Now Andy would soon be off to college. Where did that leave me?

“Bye, Mom!” Andy called.

“Where are you going?” I said.

“Got a game with the guys. See ya.”

“Drink plenty of water.”

“Don’t worry so much, Mom!” The screen door rattled in its frame when Andy slammed it shut behind him.

“Don’t worry so much,” I muttered under my breath. Sure, I could rein it in now, when Andy was only going down the street, but what about in the fall? Who would make sure he had three solid meals a day at college? Remind him to wear his scarf in the winter? Stay on top of his homework assignments? How could I let him go off to live on his own?

I poured myself an orange juice and opened the morning paper. A headline caught my eye: “Local Falcon Becomes a Mother.” An environmental conservation group had set up a web cam so we could all watch her lay her eggs.

That should keep me busy, I thought. Something to occupy my mind when I was tempted to worry about Andy! I went to the computer to check it out.

The peregrine falcon looked out at the camera with sharp, clear eyes. Dark, checkered feathers covered her back and a white bib adorned her throat. Amidst the downy bits of fluff that lovingly lined her nest were four tiny, speckled eggs. So delicate. So vulnerable! I could hardly wait for that first crack of a shell. It was as if I had a front-row seat to a miracle.

Meanwhile, there was no sitting around waiting in our house. Life seemed to run at a faster pace than ever. Between studying for his finals and filling out scholarship applications, Andy and I visited his college and shopped for his dorm room.

Whenever I got a free moment, I kept my worries at bay by checking in on the mother falcon, who was adding feathers to keep the eggs warm, scanning the sky to keep her babies safe from predators. She sure seemed to know what her job was and did it well.

I admired her strength. I could have used some of it these days as the end of Andy’s senior year approached.

One day I walked into Andy’s room with a basket of his laundry, and tripped over a pile he’d made. He’d started packing! I sniffled into one of Andy’s clean T-shirts. I wanted to be happy for Andy. I wanted to add to his excitement, to share it with him. Help me, God. Show me how to be strong for Andy.