I knew that my children were growing. That they too had their journeys and paths to explore. I could see their wings developing and watched as they looked longingly beyond the framework of our family. Yet it wasn't until I saw this post that I realized it had happened. My oldest had taken flight. Quite literally in fact -to Paris. For almost 2 decades she had flown all over the world as part of our family pack. Now she and her friend were going solo on their own adventure. I must admit - my first inclination was to fall into a well of tears, mourning the loss of our band of 6. But that quickly disappeared as her texts followed full of absolute excitement and bliss. This is what M and I had always wanted - to raise strong and courageous souls who celebrated the beauty and richness of the world. Of course we were willing participants in training them up - but it was never meant to be a band of 6 forever. Our numbers may shrink, and they they may grow again, but regardless of who physically lives under our roof, we will be forever linked by a fierce love for one another and for this world we call home. We continue our journey with the others and watch with great anticipation to see where each one flies to next. The great unexpected rides again...