The day before we left for our adventures I was faced with yet another challenging afternoon. With space between this day and now I can see more clearly these things happen out of boredom. Too much time spent indoors to try to escape the Georgia bugs and heat. Too much time folding and cleaning. Regardless, Lee sent me on a run upon his arrival home and off I went without a blink of an eye. I felt very defeated this particular day. Fried crispy and ambivalent. And I hate ambivalence. It is just plain old awful. I set off at a break neck pace so I could start to feel again. Upon arriving at a place called blue bill pond, I slowed to a trot. This particular pool of water is usually somewhat devoid of birds and gators in the afternoon sun. For whatever reason they prefer another location as the evening approaches. But there they were. I paused and looked upon at least fifty juvenile woodstorks standing in shallow water, the sun reflecting gold into their plumage. Scattered along the outskirts of this flock were about half a dozen adult storks standing tall, wings spread wide. Keep in mind these birds wingspans are a good five feet. That is nothing to scoff at. Those big black tips pointed to the sky for what reason I am unaware. I stood in awe brainstorming the possibilities. Protection? A lesson in flying? To scare possible predators? Or just simply cooling down? I have yet to determine the scientific reasoning.
But what I do know is that the was a clear demonstration of the dynamics of a family. Those little ones are not raised alone. They are raised together with their flock.
Goosebumps traveled up my arms and down my spine as I realized that this journey north to the place I belong is more than just a vacation. I need my flock. This is a chance for much-needed help. It is an opportunity for advice and ideas. It is a chance to laugh and renew. A time where I can gather the energy needed to go at it alone for the next few months. I know now with all my heart it truly does take a village to raise a child. It is not something to go at alone. Whether it be friends or pop pops or bupchies or aunties or uncles or neighbors; A girl raising her boys needs a little help now and again.
And I am ever so grateful.
2 thoughts on “with a little help from my friends”
Mariah, you are very wise! It is so true: we were never meant to parent in isolation. We are tribal by nature. There is even a term for it: “nuclear family disaster”. So glad you are going to visit family, AND that you had such a moment of clarity out on your run. Hopefully that clarity allows you to give yourself empathy for struggling with something that is only due to this bizarre social experiment our society has come to believe is normal, but really couldn’t be farther from natural.
Thank you Dara! Yes, it does seem that raising a child alone is a disaster in comparison to having the eyes and ears and love and kindness of family and friends to assist. I see this so much clearer now. And I see how happy it makes my boys.