By Kathy Whirity

Trixie, a blue and yellow parakeet made her way into our home under mild protest. With two big dogs taking up residence I thought I had made it perfectly clear that there was definitely NO room at the inn for any more pets. But, in waltzed our oldest daughter Jaime, one afternoon, about five years ago, gingerly carrying, what seemed to be a prized possession.

There was no denying that the small container with the holes across the top was housing a live parakeet. After hearing my daughter beg and plead, and realizing that she had spent her own money I relented on one condition - she take full responsibility of Trixie's care.

When Jaime acquired her own room downstairs Trixie moved right with her, at my insistence. Her father and I were only too happy to be free of the 6:00A.M chirping and unrelenting cackling that, at times, had us eyeing open windows with the same idea in mind.

I had never given Trixie much attention throughout the years, mostly seeing her as a lesson in responsibility for my daughter. And then a move I hadn't quite emotionally prepared for loomed in front of me, larger than life that I could no longer ignore.

Jaime had applied and been accepted at a university over 3 hours away from our home. The news that cold January day had us rushing out to buy the needed essentials that would accommodate dorm life. There wasn't much time for a mother's sentimental instinct to get maudlin and weepy. Before we knew it the car was packed and headed toward a new direction in her life.

We spent the first day sitting on the sidelines, watching as our little girl figured out the semantics of schedules and social activities while we, her parents, were beginning to learn the inevitable lesson of letting go. We left our daughter in her dorm room that evening, a tiny room crammed with almost all her worldly possessions.

The journey from cradle to college has been a perplexing one of highs and lows, tears and laughter. And here I was leaving my daughter in a strange place to start a whole new chapter in her life.

A mother's love is such a complicated emotion. There have been times when I'd pull my hair out over the clatter of phones ringing off the wall. Other times I'd find myself wishing for the day when my kids would be grown, when peace and quiet would be restored, and I wouldn't have to constantly nag about doors being left unlocked, dirty dishes piling up in the sink, or wet towels left lying on the bathroom floor.

But now as I faced the grim reality that my baby was leaving the shelter of my care, a bitter pain stabbed at my heart only to be eased by the words, "Mom, please take care of Trixie while I'm gone." And in that instant I knew that my daughter wasn't gone from my life, she was just away.

The very next morning Trixie moved upstairs where she has a special place in front of the living room window. Her high pitched chirping and excessive warbling is still loud and annoying, but, at times, it is music to my ears. I am now Trixie's foster mom. I provide her with food, water and occasional treats. I talk to her everyday and unsuccessfully try to imitate the whistling sounds that Jaime is so good at making.

Though I don't miss the commotion of being held hostage to her young adult lifestyle, I do miss my daughter's daily presence. It's not easy letting go. It's never easy accepting that our children have to leave the nest but - fly the coop - they must!

I'm finding comfort in knowing that no matter how old our children may be, our grateful hearts will forever stay right where they are meant to be-wrapped in the glow of a mother's love.

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