Little Reminders: Always Difficult, Always Welcome

It's one of those days ... I'm sure you have them, too ... it's a day when little things remind me of Kitty.

 plopped myself on the couch this morning, after the laundry was started, the cats were fed and the bed was made, to sort through e-mails and spend quiet time gearing up for the day ahead. 

There is a five-panel bay window in my living room.  The view from my spot on the couch is nothing but shades of green ... the neighbor's large evergreen and a tall, lush maple tree with branches that meet the hedge that borders our front lawn.  Not a neighboring house is in sight.

Quiet, peaceful, relaxing: it's a wonderful way to begin the day.

All of a sudden, I heard a thump.  My curious kitties jumped onto the window ledge waiting for more.  I set my laptop aside to watch, too.  Little brown birds, learning to use their wings, were flying into the window panes.  Down they would fall, stunned, until they made their way up to perch on the porch railing.  This continued for about 15 minutes.  Then, the baby birds were gone.

When Kitty died, she was a week shy of turning nine months of age.  She was a baby.  She was pulling herself up, trying to walk along the furniture.  She was learning to fly. 

As I watched the tiny birds hit the windows this morning, I was reminded of Kitty's many tumbles, how she was trying with all of her little body and soul to become more independent ... to walk ... to stand on her own.  I think about her never reaching that goal ... or any other.

There are many, many difficult hurdles we face along our grief path after losing a grandchild.  One is the reality that we lost our hope in and the anticipation of this child's future.  We will never see what they could have achieved in this world.  They will never watch them take flight.

As difficult as it is to face this reality, I am glad that the baby birds chose to crash into my bay window this morning.  Reminders of Kitty are always welcome, even if they arrive abruptly and make me jump another hurdle. 

Now ... where did those tiny birds go?  My hope is that they have found another house with a grandma or grandpa near a window to hear the thumps ... and to give that person memories of their little one, too.