When They Spread Their Wings
Published: Friday, August 10, 2018
What if Mr. and Mrs. Washington's parents refused to let their son, George, leave the nest to explore and survey new land? What if Merriwether Lewis' mother ordered him to never leave? She was a widow with every reason to make the demand.
What if Christopher Columbus, Amerigo Vespucci, Henry Hudson and Samuel de Champlain just stayed home because their parents didn't want them to leave?
What if more than six generations ago, my ancestors in the Netherlands demanded that great-great-great-Grandpa Nyhuis just stay home? There would be no plot of land in America claimed by my ancestors. There would be no American dream. I might be living on a canal in the Netherlands with a collection of Delft. Not that either the location or delft would be a bad thing; it just would have changed the course of my family history.
It really bugs me when parents demand that their adult children never leave the community in which they were raised. It's a pet peeve, I suppose, and frankly, one that hits close to home. And by close to home, I mean on both ends of the spectrum—as a young adult (once upon a time) and as a parent to adult children (once upon a present time).
If opportunities, desire, calling and everything else that goes into the mix of choosing where to build an adult life fall into place in a person's community of youth, that's great! If you have opportunity to build a living and life near home, or even at the home farm—next door to mom, dad, grandpa and grandma—better yet!
There is no way to know what may happen when children plant roots far from the home where they grew up. They may start and build a legacy of their own. They need parental approval and support, not feelings of guilt because they were called to other places.
There is no denying that it is hard for us on the parent-end of the spectrum to watch our children spread their wings and fly away. It's not just hard; it's terrifying. It's agonizing. It's tearful and traumatic.
It is also gratifying, satisfying and exciting to watch as they make their way, make their place, and hopefully do it even better than ourselves.
I am in the beginning phase of experiencing all those emotions right now, so yes, I know and can say with conviction that all of the emotions are real. I am also convicted to make no demands of keeping them next to my side until I die. It is not a fair request to make.
In the end, our children—from birth to grave—do not truly belong to us. They are merely on loan from the Heavenly Father. He is the one who has the plan for their lives, and it probably isn't the same plan as we have for their lives.
Let them spread their wings and don't weigh their wings down with guilt once they've spread them out to fly. You have raised them, and hopefully raised them well. It's their turn to build dreams, wherever those dreams might take them!
Bev Berens is a mom to 4-H and FFA members in Michigan. Do you have a story to share? Email her at uphillfarm494@yahoo.com.
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