Preparation For Flight

 

Moments That Matter

In the life of the hive, moments accumulate: the queen’s first flight, the worker’s last foraging trip, the splitting of a swarm. None happen in isolation. Each shapes the hive’s future.

Parenthood is marked by such moments, too. The first day of school. The first heartbreak. The first time they tell you, “I’ve got this.” They are milestones not just of growing up, but of letting go.

These are not signs you are losing your child. They are signs you have done your job well.

We have been seeing these little glimmers of growth and decision making from our oldest child. As he has made healthy choices to cease stressful endeavors, join different friend groups, and define his prirorities around work vs. summer fun.

While our youngest tries to follow in his older brothers footsteps, he is still younger and needing more of his parental unit guidance.

As a parent the way we parent has begun to shift, to offer guidance, less about telling them how to do things or what to do, more about asking questions like, "What do you think?" or "How do you think that decision will be recieved?" or "Have you considered....?"

What no one tells you is that your own emotional feelings as a parent will be challenges, will need to take pause and reflect and that it will be hard but wonderful all at the same time.

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Letting Go is Love in Action

Honey bees survive because they trust the process. They trust that life is meant to move forward, not hold still. They do not cling. They do not hover. They live fully in their roles, then make way for what comes next.

For parents, this may be the hardest lesson. To love a child is to hold them close and to let them go, again and again, in bigger and bigger ways. It is to believe in their ability to fly, even when you ache to keep them safe in the hive.

As we prepare for a final high school year beginning in a month, we are taking stock in each moment with our oldest. We are helping him to prepare for life with guidance, and are slowly letting him go and watching him fly into his own. As difficult as it is we will smile through the tears knowing that we are doing our job.

Teens and Honey Bees

 

Change is Inevitable — and Necessary

When a hive becomes too crowded, something remarkable happens: a swarm. The old queen leaves, taking a cluster of bees with her to build a new home. It looks chaotic. It feels like loss. But it is nature’s way of ensuring survival, progress, and the spread of life. My husband and I recently collected our first swarm! An answer to a FB post about bees and in 8 minutes we were up the Canyon collecting a thousand bees. Our youngest came and participated in collecting them. He is 13 a teenager finding his own path in life. He was such a help and it took longer than expected. But it also reminded me there is a connection between a swarm and children growing up; changing over time.

Children, too, swarm in their own way. First it’s learning to walk — leaving your hand behind. Later it’s asserting opinions, pushing against boundaries, and demanding their own space. Eventually, it’s driving away, moving out, building a life entirely separate from the one you carefully constructed around them.

This past year we have begun to see these types of changes with our children, requireing parenting shifts and the ability to communicate differently to support their different needs. Our youngest shifted schools and reduced anxiety, leaving behind bully's and situations that were unfathomably, moving towards rebuilding self confidence and setting boundaries and working on generating great frienships. Our oldest made decisions around working, sports and his own journey post high school setting into motion a series of things to help grow his adulthood.

These departures feel messy and disruptive. They are moments of loss. But they are also moments of purpose. Like bees leaving the hive, our children are meant to move beyond the space we’ve created for them. We have struggled to allow it and how to communicate and identify our own feelings of loss while, still supporting their journey. We are by no means perfect but are working towards having seriously independent kids

My Honey Bee Era

 

It is said that the Honey Bee is vital to life! 

They are the pollenators, without whom life as we know it would cease to be.

These are the things I think about when working the hive.

I pull each frame in a specific order, looking, listening and learning about the colony. 

Inspecting for various signs.  That the queen is alive and doing her job.

That the bees have enough food and are healthy,  and  making notes along the way.

As a steward of the bees, it isn't necessiarily about obtaining the sweet honey that will eventually come it is about survival, sustainablity and commitment to life (something I learned a lot about from my brother in law Bob #survivorbee.

The Honey Bee and the Human Heart: Lessons on Survival, Change, and Letting Go

Nature rarely hands us a metaphor as perfectly as the honey bee. Tiny, tireless, and woven into the fabric of life itself, honey bees are often admired for their industriousness. But beneath the hum of the hive lies something deeper: a story about survival, change, and the bittersweet art of letting go.

If you’ve ever raised a child — from the sleepless newborn days to the defiant teenage years — you’ll recognize yourself in the life of a honey bee. Their story is, in so many ways, our own.

For my husband and I having two now teenagers (13, & 17 almost 14 & 18) this most recent years has taught us many lessons that are comparable to the life of a honey bee. Maybe that is why I find myself sitting in front of the apiary just watching the flight patterns, the struggles of a removal of a bee from the hive or the protection of the hive when a danger is sensed by the colony. I find solace, saddness and also pride in the work.

Survival is Not Stagnation

A beehive survives because it adapts. It is not a static place; it is a community in motion, constantly recalibrating to the seasons, the weather, and the needs of the moment. Workers are born, thrive, and eventually leave the hive. Queens rise and fall. Drones come and go. The hive hums on.

Parenthood feels much the same. The early years are survival mode — sleepless nights, the constant hum of needs, and the blurry exhaustion of tending to tiny, dependent beings. Like bees in a hive protecting fragile larvae, parents shield, feed, and nurture. Life is dictated by the rhythms of those early days. Recently I have been missing those days. They were perfect (though at the time I didn't realize it AND it felt terribly hard). What I wouldn't go back to do some things differently because of what I know now. AND what I recognize is that to do it differently would alter the today and I wouldn't be writing these reflections.

But nothing stays still. Children grow. They assert. They challenge. They change. Survival becomes less about protection and more about guiding them through transformation. This is a shift in parenting that I was ill prepared for. The struggle between what I knew, letting go, inparting trust, and overcoming my own feelings of how things should be became a central internal battle.

In the next few weeks I will be unearthing the last years journey.

Signing off -- Sweet Williams