I am thankful for red birds.
I never really paid all that much attention to the birds until this past spring. My mom was failing, and, at the same time, there was an unusual abundance of birds in my yard. There were a lovely couple of Cardinals that kept appearing on my deck, and I watched them through the panes of the back door. The little flashes of red were nice in opposition to my gloomy mood. And my mama always loved birds, so it drew me in to study them more in her absence.
In the week before she died, there was a deep indigo colored bird that visited my deck a few times as well, and one so similar in color it could have been its twin that appeared on my parents' deck. I considered it my messenger bird, like God was sending me a sign of what was to come. I never saw that bird again.
Since she died, I notice the birds. I find them so symbolic sometimes, even feeling like it's her in weird silent moments between just me and nature. One day, I sat out by the pool in late May. One little bird kept perch on the fence seemingly watching over me. So I told him hello, and then said aloud, "Hey, Mama." I still do that when I feel there's a bird looking into my soul.
This morning, I woke with that unexpected heaviness that just happens on some random day for no apparent reason. It hangs over the days with even more thoughts of her, even more missing her. I never can quite put my finger on what makes some days harder than others, why some mornings I wake up and hurt more than I did the previous day, but it just happens like that. Today has been heavier than yesterday. Until just this afternoon, a bright red bird flew right across the road as I drove the kids to get their hair cut.
I smiled. The red birds always make me smile because they made her smile. She loved the birds.
Lord, today I am thankful for the birds, especially the red ones the sprinkle color into the greyest days. I am thankful for that one little red bird that flew across my path today reminding me of her in a happy way. Thank you for the birds, Lord.