From my earliest memory I recall wanting to be a bird. With hard work and determination I have become semi-migratory, always leaving with the promise to return.
My migratory instinct blended with the need to return moves me from Northern California, where I nest with my beloved, to the frost covered ridge tops of East Tennessee.
I fly each way living on pretzels and water alone. In a metal container with wings, crowded with people and luggage in every nook and cranny. I am finally able to extricate myself midsouth.
Deliana and Gabriel take me under their wing, sharing Bulgaria and Turkey as well as hearth and home. I make a quick trip to Macon and visited family and other strong ties. Finally I arrive at the home of my family in the hills of East Tennessee after a long drive, barely beating snow and icy roads. I see my parents struggling to maintain their dignity, people stepping forward and doing for them. I also see a need for love and support. As always I am torn.
I see a glimpse of my Mother again, my first glimpse in a long time. Her response to an honest compliment, however fleeting, then, she's gone!
I see Ethel in Tazewell. I say, "Good-bye, I hope to see you again." Then I kiss her hand. She says, "I could be gone tomorrow. They are all on the other side.” I know who she's talking about and her dreams are of peace and those she has known and loved.
Then it is time to return. The big shiney bird pulls me away and I am on my return migration. There are birds in my backyard. I see them from above as we zero in on the landing. They scratch, scurry, and feed on the seeds left for them. The days are bright, sunny, and cool. My garden needs weeding. I live each day in a small way and I am grateful!
February 3, 2005
Thursday, February 03, 2005
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