I Hope that Wasn’t Your Mother-In-Law

It was early in the morning when a co-worker slowly came into my office. Bernie doesn’t stop by often, so it was clear she had something on her mind.

“I’m so mad at you,” she said quietly. “You have a dead cardinal stuck in your grill.”

A dead cardinal. Perfect. What a way to get the day started.

If it was any other kind of bird, I wouldn’t have thought much of it. Heck, I didn’t even know when or where this happened.

But this was a cardinal. We all know folklore.

Must admit that I stopped and gave this some thought.

We have a cardinal that visits the back of our house. Every time we spot it, my wife points out that it’s her mom checking in on us. It’s a nice thought. Comforting to think so.

Fortunately, I have never driven the car through the backyard or on the deck and I am hoping that this tragic event took place miles away from home. So, if it was someone else’s mother-in-law, I am truly sorry.

Unfortunately, though, while this poor Cardinal may or may not have been a loved one in spirit, I suspect it was a mother.

Which made this even worse.

This cardinal in my grill had a twig in her mouth. I’m not a bird expert, but I think she was either building or repairing a nest.

She died doing what good mom’s do. Putting the welfare of her young first, even if that meant flying across a busy street or into a crowded intersection. Her maternal instinct took over.

Protect the kids. Give them a safe place from predators and other dangers. Make sacrifices for them so that they may survive.

And when faced with the prospect of a head-on collision with a speeding truck, farm machinery or a 4,500-pound 2012 Chevy Traverse, if it means getting back to the nest right now because someone is counting on you, personal safety is not part of the thought process.

It’s what mom does.

I have seen this in real life many times and in many ways.

Sometimes it’s in dealing with the outside world. Bully the wrong kid and you might get to see what mommy claws look like. Most bullies, regardless of their size or how intimidating they may be, are no match for a mom on a mission.

Other times, it’s in the home, protecting them from themselves. Sometimes it's teaching life lessons.

Tough love is a main course served by devoted moms. She will decide if you want a second helping. Side dishes might include strict rules, obedience, and respect. Guilt is a heavy dessert, and for some, dessert goes down first.

Curfews, cell phones, video games. If mom says “no”, dad says, “mom says no”.

Who kids hang out with. Where they go. Who’s driving. Sleepovers. A developed mom network shares and archives more information than the CIA.

The sense of nurturing is extremely powerful. It trumps hunger, fatigue, and illness. Strength surfaces beyond known capacity. It becomes apparent that capacity is endless.

With time, responsibilities increase and for some, the nest includes the young and the old. It seems like the work is never done. The worrying certainly never goes away.

Often the nest needs to be moved. Perhaps to a safer place. A bigger place. A smaller place.

Wherever it is, though, it is home.

Inevitably, the little ones must leave. Momma Cardinal’s work is done. For now, anyway.

Eventually, she’ll be flying around looking for a safe place, twigs, and food again.

I hope she stops by for a visit.

This column originally appeared in the Times, a Shaw publication.