It was the fall of the year when you came.
You with the smile and the so simple name.
I was so fond of those cute little eyes.
Love at first sight, we were so mesmerized.
I'd hear you speak and you'd hear me laugh.
Sunshine and joy was the key to our path.
It was the fall of the year when you left.
Life seemed to crawl in my days of bereft.
Days turned to years, yet I still hear you sing.
Fly in the heavens, sweet bird on the wing.
A tiny life:
Bill was a 'rescue bird' I acquired when he was 15 years old. He had always been caged. His wings were fully grown and yet he made no effort to fly, ever. In fact I'm not sure if he ever had flown. I'm not sure if he even knew that he could have flown very far away. He had always been in that cage... in a closet.
When we met we both had yellow hair - his natural - mine dyed. We were drawn to each other like magnets. (It was that way for four beautiful years.) It took three months to get him to come out of that cage. After that he was never caged again. I let him go in and out as he pleased. He would sit on top of his cage and greet me whenever I walked into the bedroom he shared with my two small budgies - Casper and Candy. They were my children. They learned to love Bill and he loved them. They would jump from rooftop to rooftop... each had their own cage of a different color. It looked like Charleston, South Carolina with the area known for its rows of colorful houses.
In time Bill learned to speak complete sentences. It was like talking to a three year old human child. However, the very last word he learned was from my six year old niece. The word was - "sweet." She would say, "sweeeet," and he would answer back, "sweeeet." All of the birds loved "the niece"! So two days later when Bill passed, the hardest thing to do was to tell the niece. She came for the funeral, and then played with Casper and Candy. Ironically I found strength watching her comfort them.
As I travel from blog to blog I am often at a loss of what to say to others who have lost a pet - a family member - a treasure - a tiny life. It takes grieving. It takes time. If that tiny life meant anything - it is worth the grieving to recapture the joy that will return. It will return... because you will realize you were part of something amazing. You were part of their tiny life.
* Special dedication to Janie and Franklin