“There’s a baby bird in the egress window,” my husband said Saturday morning, “and I don’t think it can fly out.”
My daughter and I ran to the basement window to see this for ourselves. Sure enough, the cute little guy sat in the cushion of leaves in the window well. My daughter immediately wanted to save it. Deciding it was a “him,” she named him Albert.
We watched Albert through the window, before doing anything, to see if his mom would come back. And she did.
She didn’t sit in the window with him, but she was never far away. She brought him food and she stood on guard.
She sat on the fence outside my kitchen window while I baked chocolate chip cookies. And she chirped. Over and over. Chirp (pause)…chirp (pause)…chirp.
Albert kept the same chirping rhythm. Chirp (pause)…chirp (pause)…chirp.
We decided they were communicating…
Mom?...I’m right here…Mom?...I’m right here…Mom?
…Albert scared and crying out, while his mom let him know she was there and hadn’t left.
My daughter said it reminded her of when she had an MRI and I stood next to her throughout it, with my hand on her leg. She couldn’t talk or move, but the couple of times I moved my hand, her leg twitched, as if to make sure I was still there. And I rubbed her leg to assure her I hadn’t left.
Throughout the day, we watched Albert as he attempted to fly out…without success.
We wanted to scoop him out, but like his mom, knew that he would eventually fly out on his own. So, we cheered him on.
Again, we realized how the mom-child relationship isn’t all that different. Sometimes, as moms, we can’t rescue our kids, but we can stay close and comfort them.
They will get themselves into predicaments that they have to figure out how to get out of, and all we can do is support them…and love them. So, Albert’s mom stayed.
First thing Sunday morning, we checked through the window. Albert was still there and looked like he’d gotten used to his new surroundings.
I went on to do other things, but received timely updates from my daughter. She was sure he was looking at her through the window. Maybe he was feeling supported and encouraged by her too.
“Mom, mom! I got to witness it!” she yelled as she ran to find me. “Albert got out!”
And he did. After the night’s rest, he was strengthened and refreshed…and he flew to the edge of the barrier to the window well. We couldn’t help but be proud of the little guy.
We snuck outside and watched as he sat on the edge chirping. Then, we spotted Albert’s mom, with breakfast in her beak, but still able to answer his cries.
Mom?...I’m right here… Mom! Look, I did it!...See? I knew you could do it!
We thought we were being sneaky, watching from a distance, but moms have a good sense about things, and we figured she was on to us. Albert wasn’t going to eat breakfast until we left.
Albert was gone when we checked back later, probably off somewhere with his mom. We were happy for them...but at the same time, we kind of missed the little guy.