Rainbows and Birdsong

Rainbows signify my son, Donnie‘s, presence. There was a rainbow outside the Unitarian church when his memorial was over and the next day there was one at the corner while I was taking Highlin’ for a walk.

A birdsong signifies my mother’s presence. She made a point to crack the kitchen window over the sink so she could listen. When we sat on the front porch, she would pause and locate the bird whose song caught her attention. These must’ve been her meditative acts way before my be here now moment awareness arrived. Moments I’m seeking more and more these days sheltering in place. Mostly to keep my mind off politics and the future of the virus. Stay safe.

Stay healthy. We do the best we can. Thinking back I cannot remember Mom ever in a political debate. I can’t remember her ever saying very much, except comforting one-liners when we were expressing our worries. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

I can remember what she did. In addition to wonderful cooking and keeping a clean, cozy house, she sewed. Her sewing machine was in the living room. It faced the TV. She sat behind it and sewed. There was a floor lamp. Dad sat in his recliner on the other side of the room facing the TV.

This is what they did every evening. I’m sure Mom would have been just as happy in her sewing room. This is what they did together. Dad wanted her close. At some point she took a break and made popcorn. It’s what they did together.