Absence
So most of you reading know we lost our pet budgie, Birdie this week. I know to some, this isn’t any great loss; it’s “just” a bird who costs around $20 at a pet shop. Bird brains, not cuddly like mammals, etc. I get that, I really do. But for someone like me who can’t have a mammal, having a pet bird brings a measure of joy I’ve been denied by my overachieving immune system, and my kids are able to share in that joy by growing up with pet birds.
We still aren’t exactly sure why he got sick so suddenly, but when we got him, he was sick. The national chain pet store he came from was willing to let us exchange him for another bird, but I couldn’t bear to think of what would happen to him if we did. So we knew going in that he wasn’t 100%, and earlier this year, we’d spent hundreds of dollars trying to figure out why. Turns out he had something called megabacteria, which is actually a fungus (don’t ask me; I’m not a scientist) that can be tough to diagnose and completely eradicate. I’m guessing the bacterial infection had returned after a 10 month hiatus, because even though the tests the vet ran the day we brought him in didn’t reveal its presence, there was nothing else new in his world except our 4-day trip to Orlando and megabacteria can be tough to spot, often requiring several tests till it’s spotted.
Of course, the worst part of this whole ordeal was seeing the kids’ heartbreak. There were tears–mine included–and we all talked openly about where Birdie’s spirit might be and whether there were separate heavens for people, cats, dogs, and birds (Jackson came up with that one).
Nolan took it the hardest, since Birdie arrived as a birthday gift from one of our babysitters and while we made it clear that Birdie was for our whole family, we let Nolan choose his name as a birthday gift. Turns out I’ve been misspelling his name wrong all along–to Nolan, it’s “Birdy.” He cried and yelled for a long time, then at one point quietly went into the art room to work on this:
He said he wanted to put it in the box with Birdy when we buried him, and after that there were no more tears from him. That night, we all walked outside to the pine trees outside my home office window and buried him with Nolan’s letter and a couple of his favorite toys. The wind was blowing hard that night and it broke my heart to think of him all alone out there in that wind. Jackson even thought to bury his beloved Soft Turtle with him since Turtle was sort of, well, Birdy’s “boyfriend” (birds have needs too!). But he said he couldn’t bring himself to do it. I told him it says a great deal about his spirit that he’d even consider giving up his Turtle for his pet bird. What a heart.
My mom says we shouldn’t get another bird because the boys may be learning not to take death seriously, but of course we all want another (well, except Dan, but we outnumber him). And I don’t think this is causing them to devalue either life or death, but rather the opposite.
What I hate the most is how quiet the house is now. Every morning after dropping the kids off at school, I’d come home and he’d be all excited to see me so I’d let him out of his cage and he’d hitch a ride on my shoulder while I fixed coffee and readied to work.
Every time I’d walk out of my office, he’d cheerfully say, “Hi, Birdy!” in my voice. He laughed in my laugh when I’d tell a joke; it wasn’t the language he understood but the timing and frequency of my smartassery. He learned to say “I’m a CHICKEN hawk!” “Shake your booty” “Jackson farted!” and a few other phrases. I even got him to say “I love you, Mommy” one time on Mother’s Day. He was so sweet and gentle with the boys, never biting them even when they pushed his boundaries. He even rode a toy train for Jackson once Dan suggested he use a smaller version of Soft Turtle as bait to lure him aboard. He loved fruits and veggies and stealing bites of the boys’ oatmeal and corn on the cob.
Really, he was a remarkable little being with a ton of feisty spirit. Here’s a link to many of the photos I took of him during his over two years with us. I sure miss you, bird.
Filed under Birds, La Familia, Parenting, The Pups, Through the Lens | Comments (7)Day 38: Expect the Unexpected
{Taking Full Advantage of Their New Costume Bin}
Turned around today and instead of seeing two boys in their PJ’s, I was confronted with this scene; don’t you love how proud they are of themselves? I’d like to take a moment to plug the awesomeness of the superhero cape; my neighbor gave these (they attach with Velcro, so no strangulation risk) to the boys during one of her holiday gift extravaganzas (3 gift bags magically appear on our front porch each holiday–now THAT’S neighborly!). The kids love them!
Filed under 365 Alive, La Familia, Live Your Life in Capital Letters, Parenting, The Pups, Through the Lens, Wellness | Comments (3)Day 36: Reach
“Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for?” -Robert Browning
It seems to me that it’s an essential life skill to find that comfy spot between continually striving to do better (creative sparks + elbow grease) and remembering to savor and be content with what is (and what was) in our lives.
I feel more and more these days like I’m finding that sweet spot in which to set up camp (complete with hammock and cold-morning hot coffee).
How about you? I hate to use the word “balance,” because I think it’s a hackneyed, illusory goal; things are always out of sync somewhere in our lives and to strive for that perfect ANYTHING beyond acceptance of doing our best with the materials at hand on any given day is a losing proposition in my book. But are you finding that sweet spot in your own life? How? Or why not?
Filed under 365 Alive, Soul Food, Through the Lens, Wellness | Comments (4)Day 35: Radiate
Right to the edge I’m barely there,
Slow to make my move; I’m almost there.
Everything I say, I say to me first.
Everything I do, I do to me first.
-Tegan & Sara, Dark Come Soon
Part of an email from a friend who’s known me since Jackson and her firstborn were babies, and knows how many times I’ve tried and failed to lose weight and just generally be cool with myself:
Toni,
I love watching your brain wrap itself around something. I imagine Nolan is the embodiment of how you come to new ideas/methods etc. Having to go slowly at first, checking out all sides and if it’s thrust too quickly, you run for cover. I’m over here quietly urging you on with happy proud tears in my eyes. You’ve got it right there in your reach!
I cried when I read this; she was shy about sending it because she didn’t want to offend me, but it did anything but offend! Instead, it made me realize how valuable it is to have friends who will tell it to you straight but also hold you up when you stumble, cheering you to the finish line.
I keep thinking about what my yoga instructor said at practice recently, to visualize our lives as a wheel with our selves at the center. The significant parts of our lives radiate outward from that center: friends, family, work, home, volunteering, hobbies. I know most struggles of consequence must be faced alone, but nobody should suffer the hard parts in solitude, either. And I know my center would not be half as solid as it is without the vibrant, brilliant, and loving people I’m blessed to call “friend.” The ones who call me “friend” back? Total keepers.
Filed under 365 Alive, A Friend Is One Who Knows Us And Loves Us Anyway, Mixed Media, Soul Food, Through the Lens, Tunes, Weight Loss, Wellness | Comments OffDay 33: Universal Truths
Poking fun at my frequent novel talk here, on Twitter, among friends and family . . . I really should make t-shirts.
Filed under 365 Alive, Fiction, Soul Food, The Writing Life, Through the Lens | Comments Off