What I See...

Yesterday, while standing at my kitchen window waiting for water to boil, my eyes scanned our backyard. The late afternoon sun bathed the rhododendrons, the porch, and the lawn that is slightly brown in protest of this winter's snow and its suffocating properties. 

Something caught my eye - four cardinals. The birds had perched themselves on one of the smaller bushes in the yard. That's interesting that so many of them are together, I thought. I don't think I have ever seen more than two of these birds at once. As I ponder this occurrence, my eyes find something on the ground in front of them. Something red, limp. 

I'm teary-eyed now. These cardinals are mourning the loss of one of their members. I came across a  news clip the other day, "Monkey Troop Mourns Loss of Baby." A baby monkey sniffs her friend lying on the ground, looks up wide-eyed, and lets out a shriek. "This is a confusing time for the other youngsters," the newsman explains. You don't say, I thought. Although he is likely reading off of a script, I applaud the news anchor for acknowledging the utter confusion that comes with a loss. Death is a part of life, but that does not take away its power to leave us in the dark, wondering just how this could have happened and why. 

These thoughts and emotions flood me again as I watch the cardinals. I'm sorry guys, I know how you feel. As I attempt some kind of communication through telepathy, they obviously don't hear me. But in a strange way, I really want them to. 

My pot of boiling water is overflowing by now, so I take my eyes away. I tell myself that I will go outside to the dead cardinal later. But once I remember this plan after dinner, it's dark. 

This morning, I am at the kitchen window again. I remember the cardinal, and look for it. But I don't even have to go outside. In the morning light, it is clear. The morning light presented a new revelation, one that I wasn't ready for.

The dead cardinal was not a dead cardinal at all. It was one of Rocky's red bones. 

The "cardinal" was just a bone. 

This news hits me like a ton of bricks. I am mourning a new loss. I am not grieving for a dead cardinal, but for something else. There is a deeper emotional need here. 

I really didn't want the "cardinal" to be a dead cardinal. Trust me. I have been known to cry when our cat kills a chipmunk. So I didn't really want to be watching cardinals mourning. Or did I? 

Part of me did want that. I wanted camaraderie. Even if just with the birds. I wanted to know that I wasn't alone. But another side of me was relieved for the cardinals. Relieved that these birds could just fly on their merry way. 

Confusion. Relief. Confusion. Relief. I'm sorry. For who? For what? 

I go outside, finally. It is, in fact, just a bone...

But I still see a cardinal.