THE SIGN FROM BIRD

Bird

My son, Bow, sat at his uncle Bird’s side and promised him that he would look out for me. Bird tightly squeezed his nephew’s hand – he had heard and understood. Even more important, he trusted that Bow would do as promised. Within a few minutes of my son’s departure, on October 14th, at 2:05 AM, my brother sighed twice then crossed over. I realized that Bird really meant what he had told the nurses and his friends. In spite of my repeated assurances that I would be okay, he had been hanging on because he was worried about leaving me alone here.

I waited beside him for the six hours I wanted before the medical team came to remove the empty body which had housed such a beautiful soul. I followed them to the hospital to numbly sign the necessary documents, then returned home. My children and older grandchildren began to arrive. I spent the rest of the day surrounded by love and support from those who cared deeply not only for me, but for the uncle they could never forget.

I refused my son’s offer to stay over with me. All I needed was sleep, I assured him. After bestowing many hugs and kisses, my family prepared to leave. As I was walking my Japanese daughter-in-law, Yoshiko, to the door, we paused a moment beside my brother’s bedroom. Both the lights and television he had kept on for 24 hours a day were turned off. The room was dark and silent but, as Yoshiko noted, it didn’t ‘feel empty’. I hugged her gratefully – so I wasn’t the only one who sensed that!

During one of our many discussions, Bird had expressed skepticism in my beliefs of ‘the next step’. We decided that, if it was at all possible, he would give me a sign that he had arrived and was well. I had total faith that I would receive his sign; I just didn’t expect it so quickly.

Something caught my eye as I passed Bird’s bedroom door on my return to the kitchen. His blue, pencil flashlight, still on the portable table beside his bed, was glowing. I slowly entered the room and picked it up. I wasn’t seeing things – it was turned on. The room had been in total darkness when Yoshiko and I had paused beside it just a few moments ago.

Still holding the flashlight, I sank to the edge of his bed and reached out to rub my hand over the blankets. They felt warm under my palm.
“This is your sign, Bird?” I asked aloud. There was no verbal reply, but the loving embrace floating around me was so sweet that it brought tears to my eyes…and joy to my aching heart.

Trust Bird to find a way. He was telling me that all was well and, because I couldn’t help but add a human element, he was also conceding that, this time, his sister was right.

I know he was watching as I blew him a kiss, and I’m sure he answered my SMILE.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.