It's been a little over three weeks since my sister, Melissa, died. I thought I was processing everything quite well. Here, in North Carolina, my life looks pretty much the same as it did before. For the last thirty-some years, I'd really only seen Missy once a year or so. The real difference is knowing that she'll no longer be there to go home to. That I won't ever again hear her voice say, "How are you?" and that I'll never receive another e-mail from my Roley. With all of that, I felt happy just knowing that, for Missy, there will be no more pain.
Then yesterday, I was suddenly overcome by a terrible feeling of desperation at the thought of everything that I'll be missing for the rest of my life, of everything that she will be missing. Missy got so much joy out of little things. There are so many little things she is missing every day. Suddenly, the thought of her being in a "better place" didn't bring comfort. I couldn't find any happy thoughts.
But wait...
Every day since we've returned from Michigan, if I've looked out early enough in the morning, I've seen a little speckled bird sitting on the railing of our deck. She opens and closes her beak, and the sound that comes out is actually twit-ter. She may have been there all summer, but I never noticed her until after Missy's funeral.
Today, just after noon, I closed my book, looked out the window and actually said, "I can't find any happy thoughts" as I gave in to tears. Guess who showed up. My little brown Missy-Bird. She twittered a few times, then turned her back and mooned me.
I feel better now.
1 comment:
I was told once that when someone close to us dies we will see a bird and that bird is to lets us here on this side that all is well. When my then wife's grandmom died, she lived with us, we had a little brown wren that got into the house twice right after the funeral. Never had a bird in before never after. I think it was a sign.
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