Hey! It's too quiet `round here! I'm feeling post busyness withdrawal symptoms! I find it easier to "cope" when theres lots going on, people are all around, I'm WITH family and friends. I'm now plotting a course for Thanksgiving. If I can make til then.....Funny eh? It really began a few days ago, I was fighting it off by being productive and smiley. I spoke to Ronda before camp and wished them fun, and felt a miss because I wasn't able to attend. I think I just need to keep the ball rolling so that I don't send the ball off the deck! I miss my son. When its quiet I hear his chuckle. Sometimes I see a Champagne Super Nova fly threw the air and wonder if I'm losing my mind. (A song he loved). Yesterday a bird came to visit, right inside the slider door and wouldn't leave. I thought maybe he was ill or hurt so I toweled him, took him back outside and threw him off the deck. To my surprise he made a 50 foot half circle and came right back and landed on the window. Waist high windows, and not a foot from me. I began to talk to him, asking a bazillion mental questions. I towelled him again and let his head poke out while I asked if spirits could come and go via a bird... I felt like a dork, and I didn't care. I launched him off the deck again, and once again a half circle across the street to the neighbors, and right back to me. I then had to sit down and ponder. This is a point where you take everything that you know to be true, for your whole life... and throw IT OFF THE DECK. Wishful thinking? I have no idea. And again, I don't care. If my boy can do whatever it takes to say hey Mom, I'm OK, its OK, please, YOU be OK... then.... So Be It. I didn't pick him up this time. He stayed perched on the windows edge. I ran to get a camera and rudys bird seed. I sprinkled some around, he wasnt interested. I said to him, OK, we're gonna do this one more time, and if you come back a third time, we will chat. Towelled in my hands he looked at me and didnt fight. He didnt look ill, and he didnt look alarmed. His breathing wasnt labored, as a frightened or hurt bird would be. As his little head peeked out at me I couldn't help but wonder. I launched him for the third time, and for the third time he returned like a boomerang. I took off the window screen and invited him into the house. I told that darned bird everything I was thinking and asked him to please stay. He spent the afternoon perched on the window, just looking and listening to me babble on. No noise, no fear, just looking at me as I talked and drank iced tea. To a bird! ( well, I am experienced at this with Rudy eh?) This is the third time since I lost Jamie that I have had a strange encounter with a bird. You tell me... coincidence? Is it possible? Can it be? I came into the house and got back to work, thinking I was ready for mental health now, tis time. I gave it an hour or so before I returned to see. He was now gone. I looked on the ground, in the yard, across the street, and it was clear that the little guy did indeed leave by way of flight. I went back to work and wrote a post it thank you note, stuck it in the prayer parrot, and cried while I finished a fall quilt.
That should get me out and about... social and distracted.... tis a plan.