Taking Care
So last week, I fancied kicking the chair out from underneath myself.
Not really. But, I did feel awfully bitch-slapped.
At first, a little cockatiel, "New Bird"
that we rescued a couple of months ago, special thanks to a neighbor finding the little guy, wasn't doing so well.
Our neighbor found him during one of his bike rides. He was still in a cage, placed about 15 feet from the road in high grass. Unnoticeable had it not been for his "cheeps for help". There wasn't a driveway or a house nearby. Just him, sitting in a cage with a little bit of water and some seed. By the time we got to him, it was already after 9 p.m. and he appeared abandoned. We left a note with contact information and took the little guy home.
Well, thinking I was doing the right thing, I put him on our other cockatiels' diet, which I make at home. So, flash ahead a couple of months to last week and me rushing him to the vet. It turns out that the little guy's digestive system wasn't ready for the "bird pilaf" that I make for them. He had a terrible yeast/bacterial infection in his digestive tract from food not passing through...
I felt awful. I thought I was doing the right thing, but no. His breast was all puffed out because his digestive tract was all plugged up, but his legs were skinny little rails. He was literally malnourished. He was sleeping a lot and was thoroughly withdrawn... He was sick and I felt sick for letting him down and practically murdering him.
Then, in an attempt for us to have more privacy in our backyard, because we live on a corner, which seems more like a fishbowl and I can't fucking walk into our backyard without a neighbor staring at me - you'd think I'd be used to it by now with the paparazzi, but no, I'm not, I transplanted a row of 12
Rose of Sharons from my parents' garden. Hoping to make another hedge along the sidewalk to block views into our haven. (It turns out that the Rose of Sharon or "Mugunghwa" is the national flower of Korea. So now, part of our garden is Korean. And I can't understand a word they're saying.)
Well, after I transplanted them, most of them didn't look as though they'd live 3 more hours. And as far as I was concerned, they were all crying for their pending deaths in Korean.
So, I was giving the little cockatiel 2 different medications twice a day, and watering the Mugunghwa profusely. (Have you ever tried to give a bird oral medication? Wow.) I was quietly pleading with both the little bird and the plants to "Please live... please live... please don't make me Dr. Death." (Knowing full well, I would've been "Doctor Death" all on my own. After all, it wasn't their fault they were dying. This is wherein the real problem lied, no?) And of course, the Mugunghwa hadn't a clue what the fuck I was saying. They probably thought I was Kim Jong Il. But taller.
Then grave, dreadful tragedy struck... I received word that an old friend of mine had lost her 12 year old son. He was killed in a car accident on her 40th Birthday.
He was with a friend, also 12, and the friend's father. They had spent the day fishing, then to dinner, then for ice cream. For some unknown reason, the father had slammed on the brakes, skidding sideways into on-coming traffic. Their small SUV was split in half. And they were all killed instantly.
Now, I was beyond sick.
I felt immobilized and heavy with grief. And I couldn't (and can't) imagine what my old friend is going through...
So, a group of us, from our "old gang" went to calling hours. I stood there not having much to say...
I hugged my friend hard. Although, it didn't feel quite hard enough. I told her that "I loved her and was so, so sorry... But, that I didn't have any words." I'm sure that my slouched shoulders, my tear-filled eyes, my limp arms and quivering lips spoke much more than anything I could've said.
I stood back from her, as one of my best friends hugged her tightly. I watched them... vacantly. Numb, really. I then turned to look at her boy in the casket. It was open. He didn't look real. They never do. But, I've never seen a kid in a casket before... The image is seared on my brain. As is the moment when his football team walked up to gaze at their fellow team-member...
It was like a moment frozen. People were moving and mouths were quietly saying things that no one heard. No foot steps were heard on the plush carpet, so it was as though everyone kind of floated around the room if they even had the energy to walk. I wanted to sit down, which I never did. And then, it would've been nice to have been carried out, and set into my car and driven away.
I saw old acquaintances that I hadn't seen in 20 years. They talked and I tried like mad to "listen", but I couldn't. I tried to remind myself that I was actually in a conversation. But later, I wouldn't be able to recount more than ten words that they said...
A small group of us, that used to be extremely close, went out for a bite to eat afterwards. We began to bring each other out of the daze and the haze. We were soon laughing and making fun of one another as we always had... And in the immense sadness, we found joy in one another's company.
The week has continued on, oblivious to anyone's cares... Time keeps its own time. And maybe that's good... Otherwise, maybe too often, we'd remain frozen. Immobile. And as time moves on, seasons come and go... and life brings what's next whether we like it or not.
I imagine my friend will remain frozen for quite some time. Her boy is gone forever. And yeah, yeah, his memory will live on. I highly doubt she wants to hear that shit right now. I think I'd be like, "FUCK HIS MEMORY! I WANT MY BOY!! I want my boy... i want my little boy..." I just can't imagine... It makes me want to curl up in bed and pull the covers up over my head.
But, as time does... The span will become greater in between her tears... And I'm sure that she'll feel guilty for awhile when she laughs. But, I'm also sure that she'll never be whole again. She'll never be the same. And maybe she won't take anyone for granted, as I do... At least not for a long time to come...
"New Bird" is doing quite well. I've still been giving him 2 medications twice daily and he's been eating and not sleeping so much. I'm feeling grateful that it seems like I have another chance.
And the new struggling hedge of the Rose of Sharons look like they're going to make it. I keep watering them everyday. And even though they probably can't understand a word I'm saying, I'm now whispering to "New Bird" and the Mugunghwa that "You're going to be okay... You just stand fast, my friend. Everything is going to be ookkaayyyy..."
And some way or another, it will... Right?
And in the meantime, be gentle to birds, water your plants, hug each other tight, and take great care... After all, we've been given another day to love one another. We've been given another chance.
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