When we arrived in Florida, our cousin Jim took us under his wing and showed us the flora and fauna of his island…Hutchinson Island in Fort Pierce. Of course this was a fast flight into my heart of hearts being the nature lover that I am. He showed us all manner of plants and birds. We walked for hours that first day, getting the lay of the land and sniffing out the key spots to return to as the days unfolded. When we got back to the nest, he even showed me where the mother dove was nesting in a tree beside his parking lot. Ah…the journey was kindled. Immediately, I was brought back to the week I gave birth to my son Sam. After a long, strenuous labor…one that was especially hard on my back…I managed to deliver him after my Mom stopped in to the birthing center and kissed my feet. She was on her way to work as I birthed my child. Later in the day, Mom and Dad came by the house to see the baby. Dad was carrying sadness. As I lay bringing Sam into the world, he had been saying goodbye to his brother…John Ballou…who died that same day. John said goodbye…and Sam said hello. Hello. Hello.
I loved my Uncle John more than anyone ever knew. He was frequently in my dreams and when I was 9, he took me on a tour of Salem Hospital where he was a surgeon. He showed me everything…all himself. Knowing now how busy a doctor's life is, I am amazed he took me on that tour. He even took me into the morgue…and mostly what I remember is the cold and the shiny metal surfaces. He was a childhood hero and I can't say that I ever shared that truth with anyone before. Anyway…as I learned to nurse my baby and spent my grief for my uncle, a great wild thing was happening outside my 3rd floor window. A pair of mourning doves had nested in an old bird feeder right there in my kitchen window. I loved to sit there in the dark hours of night feeding Sam while I watched the pair create a family…and hatch and fledge 2 young. I watched them mate…lay their eggs…hatch…feed and teach the young to fly. They shared every aspect of the job, changing guard duty about every 30 minutes. I was riveted. They were the perfect models of shared and responsible parenting. They both hunted food and fed the babies after they both sat on the eggs. It was a cooperative effort that held wisdom, patience and fairness. I was inspired by their wild bird drama that fed my dreams for my own family of 4. I'll never forget that dove family in my third floor window. Seeing the momma dove in Florida gave me a sense of familiarity and yet expectancy. It also washed me with a sense of peace.
At vacation's end, Stephen and I were spending time with a friend I hadn't seen in many years…except for a quickie visit when she was being a companion for my Mom during her first months after the fall that made 24/7 care essential. When we were about to leave Florida early, I called her and she invited us to join her at her condo in Pompano Beach. We connected and stayed with her 2 nights. We had a blast and wholly enjoyed her company and her 85 year old Mom as well. There…up on the 4th floor, we had the visitation of doves. One puffed right up for my camera and left an impression of peaceful receptivity. I am fully understanding the whole concept of the dove of peace. The dove began our vacation and ended it. Birth and death can happen in the same breath. Endings are beginnings and beginnings are THE END. The wisdom of the wild weaves itself into my domestic little life and my wild self sets my chickens free(to another human…not out in the wild). In order to make peace with my life…I must accept death. And in order for a heart to gratefully accept death, it must savor the miracle of birth. It helps to remember…endings are always beginnings. PEACE!
No comments:
Post a Comment