The Maiden Flight: MyBrownBaby First Girlpie Mari Graduates High School Today!

And so it begins—my first born, my Mari, graduates from high school today, taking the first step into the new.

It’s a beautiful day.

And serendipitous. Universe is funny that way. And awesome.

Rock with me on this: it is not without the least bit of irony that today—the day Girlpie walks across the stage to receive her high school diploma (with honors!)—also happens to be exactly a year from the day that Mari, Lila and I stood watch in my bedroom door, watching the maiden flight of five little birds that hatched in a nest their parents built for them on my porch. We called them The Baby Robins, sons and daughters of DeVonte and Neeka Robin.

For weeks, DeVonte and Neeka had been breakdancing in my ferns before I discovered the most perfect, beautiful nest full of tiny baby blue eggs buried deep in the fronds. I thought one of my crazy kids was playing a joke on me, hiding Easter egg candy in my plants to freak me out. But the nest and eggs were real. And beautiful. And loved.

When they hatched, we witnessed the miracle of nature: five perfect, healthy baby birds, snuggling together in the house that their parents built and tended to with love. DeVonte and Neeka immediately set to tending to their brood, tending to them with all the love and care good new parents have for their newborns. It was so sweet to see them fly in, like clockwork, every 20 minutes to feed the babies, who spent the majority of the day sleeping and poking their heads up with their beaks wide open, looking for food. The Girlpies named them Bash, Piper, Cleo, Coco and Ozzy. We couldn’t wait to see them fly.

And then on the very morning that we were headed out to take Mari on her whirlwind college tour, literally seconds before we piled into an Uber to get to the airport, Bash and Coco Robin found their wings. We actually caught Coco taking her first flight from the nest to a crate myrtle tree—on a branch just below her proud papa. Bash went with Neeka shortly before. As you can see from the video, we were mad hyped to witness it.

A post shared by Denene Millner (@mybrownbaby) on May 25, 2016 at 6:06am PDT

Their journey—the birth, the tending, the first flight—which I watched faithfully through the french doors in my bedroom, reminded me so much of my babies, particularly as we were preparing to travel with Mari on her college visits. Those birds tended to their young the same way we do; the babies grew the same way ours do. And when they were ready to fly, they had to learn how to do it on their own, with their parents nearby, cheering them on and encouraging them to fly.

I was so grateful to witness it, and when I shared the video and my thoughts about it on Facebook, my friend and MyBrownBaby “Faith and Motherhood” columnist Tracey Lewis-Giggetts made me turn my face to God:

This is how I believe God speaks. Through creation. It’s a divine nod saying, “It’s time. You’ve done good. She’s ready.”

As I write those words, I am tearing up. Because God is so awesome. And so right. I have not one doubt in my mind that Universe was speaking to me then and is speaking to me in this very moment, letting me know that it is time—that Nick and I have done good. That Mari, our beautiful daughter who has made us so very proud and brought us so much joy, is ready.

She is ready.

She has her cap and her gown laid out and a shoulder-full of sashes and cords, each awarded her by her teachers and school for a bevy of accomplishments—for being an AP honors student with a 98 GPA and a beast at community service and working as an editor on her school’s award-winning lit mag and scoring high on her ACT and completing a series of healthcare classes that put her on a firm footing toward becoming a doctor. She’ll be looking like Mr. T with all that neck candy marching across that stage to collect her high school diploma.

In three months, baby girl will be off to Yale—off to her new adventure.

My chest couldn’t be more puffed up, I promise you this—not just because my Girlpie is brilliant, but also because she is an incredible human being whose steps have been ordered by the divine. I’ve no doubts that the ancestors—my mothers, in particular—are watching over her.

Mari Chiles is taking her maiden voyage, and her father and I are standing nearby, encouraging her and cheering her on with each and every step.

And so it begins.

Their journey—the birth, the tending, the first flight—which I watched faithfully through the french doors in my bedroom, reminded me so much of my babies, particularly as we were preparing to travel with Mari on her college visits. Those birds tended to their young the same way we do; the babies grew the same way ours do. And when they were ready to fly, they had to learn how to do it on their own, with their parents nearby, cheering them on and encouraging them to fly.

I was so grateful to witness it, and when I shared the video and my thoughts about it on Facebook, my friend and MyBrownBaby “Faith and Motherhood” columnist Tracey Lewis-Giggetts made me turn my face to God:

This is how I believe God speaks. Through creation. It’s a divine nod saying, “It’s time. You’ve done good. She’s ready.”

As I write those words, I am tearing up. Because God is so awesome. And so right. I have not one doubt in my mind that Universe was speaking to me then and is speaking to me in this very moment, letting me know that it is time—that Nick and I have done good. That Mari, our beautiful daughter who has made us so very proud and brought us so much joy, is ready.

She is ready.

She has her cap and her gown laid out and a shoulder-full of sashes and cords, each awarded her by her teachers and school for a bevy of accomplishments—for being an AP honors student with a 98 GPA and a beast at community service and working as an editor on her school’s award-winning lit mag and scoring high on her ACT and completing a series of healthcare classes that put her on a firm footing toward becoming a doctor. She’ll be looking like Mr. T with all that neck candy marching across that stage to collect her high school diploma.

In three months, baby girl will be off to Yale—off to her new adventure.

My chest couldn’t be more puffed up, I promise you this—not just because my Girlpie is brilliant, but also because she is an incredible human being whose steps have been ordered by the divine. I’ve no doubts that the ancestors—my mothers, in particular—are watching over her.

Mari Chiles is taking her maiden voyage, and her father and I are standing nearby, encouraging her and cheering her on with each and every step.

And so it begins.