Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Snowball, Chris, and ABBA

Nobody Says Thank You: Snowball, Chris, & ABBA

I spent the whole day today, holding close to my heart, my little snow white albino parakeet, Snowball…she was dying.

I don’t know why I do this…many would call it insanity…so be it…but Snowball had bought me so many hours of her beautiful singing, and simple pleasure, that I felt it my obligation to hold her and comfort her in her last moments. I won’t go into what she died of, but suffice it to say that, the vet said he was surprised she was still alive…she should have died a year ago…so I knew, her time was coming.

I awoke to hear the dreaded “plop.” I knew she had fallen to the bottom of the cage. I got a soft clothe, wrapped her as gently as I could in it, then laid her against my chest as one does a child…and decided to take her outside…and show her the sky…a real tree…the smell of a gardenia…

I wanted her to see the hundreds of birds that I feed and that she has been singing to all these years, outside of her cage.

We sat on my old swing and rocked, and watched the sunrise, through the leaves of my three biggest trees in my backyard. Many think that you have to go to the most beautiful places in the world to see its beauty, but I think its right in front of you…everywhere. God is everywhere…in every bird, leaf, and simple flower. Sorry if that’s too corny, but it’s probably why I have always liked Emily Dickenson.

Trouble is: some of us are just too damn sensitive to it.

The funniest thing was that, just yesterday, out of nowhere, right in front of the swing, grew a big pink orchid. I have never seen it before…I have no idea where it came from, but Snowball, loved the colors…I could tell. She could see the stalk of flowers from my chest. It was as if God put that one stalk of pink flowers there just for her.

The day went by much too slowly. Snowball, who had never wanted to be held…every time I put her down, her little eyes would follow me…so, I held her, all day…walking and talking to her…she finally passed away around 2pm. She looked like the proudest of eagles…only small, and white.

She was herself, she knew she was special. Even birds have no copies.

I did a pretty good job of keeping it together until I called my husband at work. I wanted to share the news, I wanted sympathy, okay, I admit it.

For the first time…he didn’t recognize my voice…when I said “I can’t believe you don’t know who this is?” He said something like…”Should I?”

Later on, he said something like…I can’t hear so well nowadays, but, you know…it doesn’t matter at the time does it?

Okay, I lost it after that.

Well, there you go. Life and death, and love…fleeting things, they flitter in and out don’t they? But, as the song goes, “I hope you never take one breathe for granted.”

So, tonight, I thought I needed to watch something…and I saw “Mamma Mia” on the cable and I thought of Chris…of Townhall.

And I got to thinking how much Chris had loved the movie. I thought of this stranger that works at some place in some space and time, and read blogs, and loves baseball, and really loves Christmas music…let’s just say, I wanted to say :Thanks Chris.

By just being yourself you helped me through my darkest hour, and you didn’t even know it. God bless you. You see, my husband considers it to be a "girlie" movie, so he refused to watch it..so, but for your enjoyment of it, I would have never been so bold...

The movie, for all it’s silliness, was filled with Abba songs…songs that I have sung a million times. It was a good escape…

Tomorrow, I might just get out some old tapes and dance. I used to be a professional dancer, but it’s been so long…but then again, no one will see me will they now?

And then, I’m taking Snowball, Sunny, and Smokey...(who are in my basement freezer) put them all together in a box, and bury them right next to that wonderful orchid…and then, get back to work.

I have a dream, a song to sing…
I believe in angels…something good in everything I see
I believe in angels…”

Oh, and sorry about this…one is not suppose to “feel” sorry for oneself anywhere. But, if you had only seen her, she was my songbird.

She was my little Snowball.



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