Sometimes the blue bird of happiness brings sadness.
On this mother’s day, I miss my mother terribly. It isn’t that she has passed, it’s that her spirit has been robbed by the horrible disease of Alzheimer’s.
While my father was in the hospital this week recovering from surgery, I stayed with my mom. Any time spent with her now, is painful and precious.
I sat on their front porch with mom for hours. She sat contentedly watching the bird house that is mounted on a tree in the center of their flower bed. She was convinced that she could see a bird inside. Rarely is she at peace for that long, the horrible fears and anxiety that posses her, overwhelm her most of the time. After an hour or two, she turned to me and asked if I was her daughter.
One of mom’s favorite sayings was “the blue bird of happiness…”
Today, Charles and I were back in my studio cleaning and organizing all the chaos that came from the open house. Charles was in the doorway looking out toward the garden. I had just asked him when we were finished in the studio if he would hang up the bird house that I got last weekend from Ned. I want to hang it on a pine in the back yard facing toward the studio, so that I’ll be able to see it when I come and go. Charles called me to the doorway to see a pair of blue birds that had come to a house we have in the middle of our herb garden.
Bitter sweet it is. Certainly mom would have loved this.
I don’t know if they will decide to make that their home, I can only hope and will look forward to taking their photo.
Meanwhile the new bird house did not get put in place, that will be for another day.