Billy Coffey
Billy Coffey

Into the world

August 24, 2010  

image courtesy of A Simple Country Girl, used with permission*

image courtesy of A Simple Country Girl, used with permission. For info on available images, please click on the image.

It was a bit of a downer that my kids were left without a sitter on their last day of summer vacation. As a teacher, my wife’s summer had already been over for a week. Grandparents were available, but not without a shuffle of schedules. Aunts, uncles, and nephews were also committed elsewhere. That’s when daddy stepped in.

I took the day off from everything—work, writing, and the computer. “It’s your day,” I told the kids. “We’ll do whatever you want.”

Their smiles were genuine and laced with only the slightest bit of mischief, just enough for me to start to worry about a day of alternating wrestling matches and tea parties.

“Don’t worry,” my son said. “We’ll have an adventure.”

Okay.

The day began as every day for the past week had, with the three of us staring through tiny holes of mesh around the butterfly cage. Mommy had ordered caterpillars the week before, which had arrived in little plastic containers of mud and goo. According to the directions, the caterpillars would find their way to the top of the containers and form cocoons, at which point we would transfer them to the cage and stand guard. We watched for three days until the butterflies emerged. Then we had a birthday party—brownies for us, sugar water sprinkled on purple flowers from the backyard for them.

They were fed and loved, oohed and ahhed. They got the prime seat in front of the television so they could watch cartoons. My daughter sang lullabies to them at night. “They’re like my kids,” my daughter said. That was true; she cared for them as such. And the butterflies grew. Their wings grew and changed from a dull gray to bright orange, and they began flittering about the cage. It was time to let them go.

That was one item on the list for that day.

There were also plenty of others.

There was wrestling, yes. Much. And I drank so much imaginary tea that my stomach imaginarily sloshed.

We readied knapsacks for school and checked off their needed supplies.

We took in a matinee movie. Not at the fancy theater down at the mall with the noisy video games and the fancy seats, but the cool one downtown with the creaky wooden floors and the old movie posters.

We visited the school on the way home to say hello to teachers and pitch in to help mommy.

We took a walk around the neighborhood and chased imaginary pirates.

Summer had died. I think we all knew that. And I think we all knew that last day was also its funeral of sorts, a way of saying thanks and goodbye and see you again some day. But rather than mourning summer’s passing, we toasted it. We spent out day eating food we shouldn’t, laughing uncontrollably, pondering the mysteries of the world, and trying to suck the marrow out of every minute.

That’s how every funeral should be, I think. A celebration. A see-you-again-some-day.

I don’t mind bragging—they had fun. Much fun. In my son’s words, “The funnest day ever.” I like to think I had a part in that.

But the truth is that I had fun, too. I like having my kids around. I like the fact they’re nestled in a life that is stable and loving and good. I like knowing where they are, and I like knowing that place is safe.

That night after dinner, the four of us took the butterfly cage outside. My son unzipped the top and pulled it back, while my daughter clothes-pinned it to hold it open. We sat for a few minutes and watched as the butterflies crawled to the top and perched themselves there, slowly opening and closing their wings.

“It’s okay,” my son whispered. “Go!”

We all watched as one by one they did just that, leaving the home they loved for another, bigger one. One full of wonder and delight mixed with danger and darkness.

My daughter sidled up to me and put her head on my shoulder. “I wish my kids could stay here,” she said. “I know they have to go into the world, but I wish they could stay here. Does that make sense, Daddy?”

“More than you know,” I said.

This post is part of the blog carnival on Children, hosted by Bridget Chumbley. To read more, please visit her site.

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Comments

  • http://heathersunseri.blogspot.com Heather Sunseri

    Ahhh. Love this, Billy! And we love us some butterfly habitats! Sounds like you and your children had an amazing last day of summer!

  • http://www.endeanmom1.blogspot.com Beth E.

    This summer has brought many changes in our household. Our oldest son worked out of state for the summer. He’ll come back home in time to take his things and return to college. Our youngest took summer courses at his college. We hardly saw either one this summer.

    I guess my sons are spreading their wings to fly from the nest. The realization of that doesn’t make it any easier to let them do, though. As your daughter said, “I wish my kids could stay here. I know they have to go into the world, but I wish they could stay here.” Makes perfect sense to me.

    A very touching post, Billy. I’ll be praying for a great school year for your kids AND your wife.

    If you get the chance, please stop by my blog and read today’s post…a prayer request regarding a fellow blogger. Thanks.

  • http://www.pridelandsmommy.blogspot.com *~Michelle~*

    Sounds like you all had such an awesome day……good for you. We (parents) need to have those kind of days more often, don’t we?

    Your kids are going to remember this day, Billy…….don’t ever doubt that.

    I totally get the “letting go”…….my oldest son is starting college (yikes, when did I get that old???) in a few weeks. This is that next chapter in our lives where we will have to “let go, let God” as he embarks this journey with more responsibilities and the need to make choices on his own. It’s tough……I pray that I am able to allow him to spread his wings and fly. I know I am going to want to protect him from making mistakes based on his high school mentality, avoiding the consequences of those mistakes and have growing pains along the way. But then if I did that, I just might miss out on him proving me wrong and doing just fine.

    Great post! :)

  • http://writingwithoutpaper.blogspot.com Maureen

    Such wisdom in ones so young . . . set free to be.

    Lovely post, Billy.

  • http://sandraheskaking.com Sandra Heska King

    Oh. Sigh . . .

  • Katdish

    Love this one, Billy. A classic, Coffeyesque story.

  • http://godsheart-heart2heart.blogspot.com Kat

    Billy,

    What a beautiful moment captured in so many ways, the departing of our children as they get older to venture out on their own as well as our loved ones departing for their eternal homes in heaven where once more we will all be rejoined in the best family reunion ever!

    All this through your simple post of watching summer leave and releasing butterflies!

    Love and Hugs ~ Kat

  • http://hisfirefly.blogspot.com HisFireFly

    Hey Billy… how come you always make me cry?

    Blessings on ALL of your butterflies!

  • http://steeletheday.com Candy

    Once again I have been Coffeyed. Your children are so blessed. Only when they look back at their childhood through your eyes they will realize exactly how much.

  • http://www.gettingdownwithjesus.blogspot.com Jennifer@GDWJ

    Sheesh. You’ve gone and done it again, Billy Coffey.

    Will someone pass the Kleenex, please?

    I’m sending my baby to kindergarten tomorrow, so … yeah … I feel this one deep.

  • http://www.lovewellblog.com Kelly @ Love Well

    My daughter let her butterflies go just this afternoon. I took a video and snapped a picture and tried to keep the toddler from knocking over the butterfly home and whispered to the crying baby that Mama would feed him in just a minute.

    And then it was over.

    That is my life these days. I fear I’m missing it in the chaos.

    Beautiful post, Billy, as always. When does your book come out again? Because I’m thirsty for a good story.

  • http://lauraboggess.blogspot.com laura

    Now this is a rockin’ party. I agree, Billy. We need to celebrate these transitions. What a wonderful day.

    Hey, I’m going to link this up to my Goodbye to Summer post over at HCB. Do you mind? It’s just right.

  • http://highcallingblogs.com/10968/beach-music/ Beach Music

    [...] Billy’s Into the World [...]

  • http://aspiretoleadaquietlife.blogspot.com A Simple Country Girl

    I reckon that last day of summer freedom will be one of their favorites… you packed it so tight with love that it very nearly burst forth from the screen and landed in my lap.

    As usual, your literary excellence was fraught with all things ordinary made into the extraordinary by hearts that pay attention to the littlest details.

    Blessings.

    * And thank you for the link to For The Least of These…what a wonderful gift, not for me, but for the orphans.

  • http://www.lightherlamp.com Jaycee (E.A)

    I don’t think your daughter understood the weight of those words she said in the end, I’m sure every parent feels that way. I love the innocence of children, and I love this post.

  • http://www.teawithtiffany.com Tiffany Stuart

    I love this, as usual. I was thinking about caterpillars, cocoons and butterflies today. Love God’s timing.

  • http://cdposey.blogspot.com Posey

    Lovely.

  • http://mommysjourney.blogspot.com/ denise

    oh so well timed this eloquently described metaphor…the day and the experience of “letting go” and sharing this with your children…my 5-year-old daughter is off to kindergarten in 13 days and i’m on a countdown to letting her go…i’ll fill my head with the image of butterflies and your children with you and mine with me and wishing they could stay… and knowing they are… even as they go…

  • http://twitter.com/jpwire Jay

    Perfect post for me. My son just started college yesterday. It is fun to watch his new adventure all the while wishing he was home safe with me. Thanks for the perspective.

  • http://amblessedbeyondmeasure.blogspot.com April

    Beautifully written post. My son is 8 and I think about those days when I will have to let him go often (they are, unfortunately, right around the corner). What a beautiful picture you painted of life, love, safety and our days with our children. Thank you.

  • http://joyce-fromthissideofthepond.blogspot.com Joyce

    Oh this sounds like the perfect day. And of course out of the mouths of babes….
    I participated in the carnival yesterday too…I just love the way every post goes out in a different direction yet somehow feel connected.

  • http://www.kellylangnersauer.com/ Kelly Langner Sauer

    yep, just gonna walk off and cry now…

  • http://www.endlessimpact.com jasonS

    Does sound like the funnest day ever! And the lesson learned is always appreciated too…

    Thanks Billy.

  • http://www.hazel-moon-blog.blogspot.com/ Hazel Moon

    Does that make sense, Daddy?” “More than you know,” I said.
    Those lines had such insight! Loved your story!

  • http://southernproletariat.blogspot.com/ rhonda

    Oh Billy….you and that daughter of yours! How true, how true…

  • http://www.BridgetChumbley.com Bridget

    What a day! More than she knows… isn’t that the truth?!

    Thanks for a great post and lesson, Billy.

  • http://recoveryourjoy.blogspot.com Louise

    What a beautiful toast to summer, and a beautiful birthday party for your butterflies setting flight.

    Lovely.

  • http://www.denadyer.typepad.com Dena Dyer

    Just found this and really, really liked it. :) I posted the other day about the same kind of thing. It just brings a lump to my throat to watch my “babies” spread their wings.