The Empty Nest

Parents with grown children who have left home know this “syndrome” as a result of the “quiet” which has come into their lives as a result of their children being gone.  I don’t know why the psycho-babblers think of this normal experience as a “syndrome.”  It’s not a disease or a maladjustment; it’s just life.

My wife and I have experienced this twice now.  The first time was when our own children left home, although, to be perfectly honest, it was we who moved out from under our youngest, then in his 20s, when we left Colorado and came to Indiana to be near the grandchildren.  At the time, we had them only here.  I suppose it’s only poetic justice that he then got married and moved to Montana, where they are expecting their second.  We’ve met and loved the first and are looking forward to the trip to do that to the second child.

The second time?  This morning.  On the 6th, I posted about some baby robins nested on our front porch light.  So, for more than 3 weeks, I’ve watched the nest, watched Mama and Daddy Robin take care of their young.  Watched them keep a close eye on me as I disturbed them by opening the front door to do whatever outside.  Talked to Mama (?) to assure her that she had nothing to worry about from us.  Seen little beaks above the top of the nest.  Even got to the point where we’d leave the porch light off for when I came home so Mama wouldn’t be disturbed when I came home from work.  I could dimly see her sitting there, still watchful, but not flying away, even when I opened the door to come inside.  Would talk to her some more.  Did this just last night.

I was looking forward maybe to seeing the little robins on their nest or out in the yard.

After I got home last night, Sharon and I got to talking about the robins.  She mentioned that she had been startled by a bird she thought was too small to be one of the parents flying into the nest just as she came out of the door.  She asked if I had looked into the nest lately.  I hadn’t.

This morning, I took the mirror and looked into the nest.  It was empty.  Not a bird to be seen anywhere, not even in the crabapple tree.  I felt a distinct sense of loss at “the empty nest.”

Weird.

But then, I like “weird.”  Give me a TV program about “fafrotskies” (google?) or some other oddity in our world and I’m all eyes, although I don’t think wearing a tinfoil hat is going to keep the aliens from reading my mind. 🙂   I like “Fringe,” “Warehouse 13,” “Stargate, SG-1,” “The X-files,”  though I don’t care for the evolutionary underpinnings of these programs.

I have no problem with the idea of extra-terrestrial life.  After all, God, Who is life, created all the billions of stars we see in the night sky.  Why would He leave them all barren and lifeless?  Just sayin’….  I just don’t think, if there is “life” out there, they’d be all that interested in this backward dust mote.  Besides, this planet would probably be “under quarantine” because of our sinfulness. (This isn’t to discount or deny angelic beings, which the Bible clearly teaches.)

As I said, “weird.”

So, what does this have to do with robins and nests?

Just this.  Why do we name animals?  Why do we have “pets”?  At last count, my family has 10 dogs and two lizards.  Why do we name them?  Cats, dogs, even fish.  Names.

Minerva, Rags, Greybeard, Oscar.  (Actual names out of my youth.)  Why?

And why do we talk to them?  We’d be totally freaked out if they answered!

While I do not believe in “racial memory,” that is, that we have some dim recollection of the ancient past hidden in our brains, I still wonder if this isn’t some faint echo of the Garden of Eden.  [Some enthusiast for the benefits of blue-green algae in our diets was rhapsodizing about what it would be like if we could tap into the accumulated wisdom of millions of years of algae(!)]

The Garden of Eden, I believe in.  The “accumulated wisdom” of algae, not so much!

Anyway, Adam named all the animals.  This probably was nothing more than “horse,” “camel,” “cow,” “hippopotamus.”  Still, the precedent was there for “names.”

And there was “talk.”  Granted, the only such recorded conversation ended poorly for us, but still, Eve was not shocked or surprised by a talking animal.  Scripture says nothing about it, just leaves it to those of us who like “weird” to muse about it in lesser moments.

Further, it wasn’t until after the Flood that God told Noah, “The fear of you and the dread of you shall be on every beast of the earth, on every bird of the air,…, Genesis 9:2 (NKJV) – hence Mama Robin’s reactions to me.  And Scripture prophesies a time when that “fear” will apparently be gone, Isaiah 11:6-9.

So, who really knows what “relationship” man and beast may have had?  It’s not one of the things God apparently thought we needed to know.  And I’m not trying to make some startling revelation about what might have happened.  This is just a light-hearted post (no, not “light-headed”) about something I wonder about every so often.

As I said, “weird.”

But, why do we name pets and talk to them?

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5 thoughts on “The Empty Nest

  1. Umm hmm. I like the way you think. Did you notice, also, that God “loosed” the donkey’s tongue so it could talk to Baalam? Like you said, “weird!” 😉 I think forever is going to be way, way, way beyond our wildest imaginations! Can’t wait to find out! 🙂

    \o/

  2. Interesting thoughts. I had pets when I was younger, but we don’t have any now … I guess I have enough to clean up in our home. 🙂 You’re right, though, I would freak out if an animal talked to me, but never really considered why Eve was ok with this.

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