Thu Jul 15, 2010 at 11:58:20 AM EDT
|
("Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings." ~ Victor Hugo
- promoted by newpioneer)
Red-winged black bird
Shortly after my mom died we had a sign she was free and happy, this is the story.
My parents loved birds, they fed them, studied them, kept track of the migration patterns and watched the birds that graced their yard on their journeys year in and out.
When my father was dieing we put his hospital bed in the living room by the big window so he could look out over the garden they tended so lovingly. The pink roses were in their glory with the huge pink dogwood tree in full bloom behind the roses. Three days before he died he saw an eagle chasing a white dove. That eagle was putting on quite a show, dive bombing around and around in circles trying to get the dove to drop it's food. My dad could no longer speak but lifted his arm and pointed at the birds to make sure everyone saw this display unfolding before him.
The day my father died I walked into my back yard and there was a white dove walking around on the patio. It watched me and wasn't afraid, it hung out there with me for over an hour just watching me then it flew away to never return. I knew it was my father and later that night I had a dream of him and he was letting me know he was happy and free.
The day my mother died is fresh and raw in my heart.
July 3rd mom took to bed with a fever and never got up. The fever went away but she was done, her 89 and 1/2 year old body broken beyond repair. Her last breath was July 12 at 7:25 AM with her children around her. Three weeks before she died a bird showed up and forced us to take notice, it took some effort because we have a lot of bird activity here on the lake and our lives are busy. It was a red-winged black bird and that bird perched itself at the tip top of a stag down by the lake shown here in this mornings light:
There is a spot at the top that looks like it might be a bird but it is the back side of a flower from the vine, the flowers are huge.
We could see the bird from the house and every time we went outside it would loudly talk to us. We finally started noticing it was always there, it was so odd that we made a point of looking for it each morning and watching it through out the day. It would fly up into a big fir tree and then back but mostly it just stayed right there. We thought maybe there is a nest in the clematis vine (as you can see is currently in full bloom) I had planted to grow on the stag but we never saw it go into the vine, it just sat on the tippy top and made sure we paid attention.
The day my mother died below the fold........ |
| Kathleen :: I am a bird in circling flight |
The day my mom died I forgot all about the bird, we were waiting for the funeral home to come to get her body for cremation and my sister quietly turned and walked outside, out by the lake. She came back in just a few minutes with a beautiful black and red feather, proudly holding up her treasure for us to see. I held my breath as it hits me this is a feather from the red winged black bird and I looked at the stag and for the first time in 3 weeks........ the bird is not there! I started jumping up and down as my husband and I tell the story of the bird as we both are stunned. My sister said something told me to go outside and I walked straight to the feather on the ground. Then I had memories of my mother going for walks around the place when we first moved her into our home, she would bring feathers she found and I put 2 of them in a weaving I have on the wall just above my computer. It is an old weaving made by descendants of the Inca tribe, a weaving they used to carry their babies on their backs. The 2 feathers my mother brought to me I had saved on the weaving, they are red winged black bird feathers.
Here:
and here:
We keep watch for the bird and to this day it has not returned, she is free. My niece said she thinks the bird was her grandpa waiting for her grandma, and that is the only answer that can explain what happened. My parents were ballroom dancers and now they are the swift, uplifting rush of quiet birds in circling flight.......
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am the song that will never end.
I am the love of family and friend.
I am the child who has come to rest
In the arms of the Father
who knows him best.
When you see the sunset fair,
I am the scented evening air.
I am the joy of a task well done.
I am the glow of the setting sun.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!
~ Author Unknown ~ |
