She is building a nest.  Her nest. This is not surprising.
She’s watched me build nests her whole life.
But her nest is tiny. A nest soon to be filled with too many clothes, too many shoes, books and posters and a futon that has been transported by her long-suffering, pickup owning Uncle Maffy more times than anyone (no matter how much he loves his niece) should have to move a futon. It is a nest for one smart little black-feathered bird.
It is an efficiency apartment, which seems proper since she is one of the most efficient people I know. She is also very independent and mostly fearless, too. As long as she doesn’t have spiders for roommates, I’m pretty sure she’ll do just fine on her own in the big city.
And let’s face it. I do most of the worrying in the family anyway. But my baby bird is excited about building this little nest of hers, and so I’m washing her clothes and watching her pack as I listen to her plans for her first place with a mixture of awe and envy. And for some reason, I keep thinking about those old Mary Tyler Moore episodes. I wonder if Mary Richards’ mother felt this way when Mary spun around in a circle and threw that beret of hers up in the air. I don’t remember Mary’s mother ever hauling plastic bins into that big old Victorian house she shared with Rhoda, do you? Maybe Mary had uncles, too.
I suspect there will be times when this nest will seem lonely and a little too quiet. Moments when she will question whether making the decision to live by herself was the right one and even times when she wishes she’d moved into a house full of giggling roommates closer to campus instead.
But tonight, as she sorts and folds her clothes, deciding what to take to her new apartment, she is excited, ready to embark on the next adventure. And in spite of all of my mother worries, I’m excited for her, too. She is unencumbered, free, and doing what she loves.  She has the guts to venture out into the big world in a way that I never really did at her age. And I’m proud of her for it. She will never be as free to set her own course as she is right now. She does not know this yet, but I do.
For this little bird of mine, I’d say that the senior year of college with her whole life spread out before her waiting to be lived is the perfect time for a nest built for one, wouldn’t you?
You go, Girl. Pretty sure you’ll look great in that beret.
I love you to the Moon…..Mom
The Loon Whisperer 