When I was a little girl, my mom and dad shared their appreciation for bluebirds with us. My dad put bluebird houses up in our yard, hoping to attract them. My mom needlepointed sayings with bluebirds on, and found small glass sculptures of the tiny birds to place around our house. I think for them, those “bluebirds of happiness” truly did represent the peace and joy that was within the walls of our home. When I grew up and moved to eventually land in the house I now live in, I tried desperately to attract bluebirds. Put out houses. Bought a whistle. Bluebird food. But…never one. But over the past few years, with my mom passed and my dad declining, I would awaken many mornings to a soft hammering on my house. At the highest point on one corner of the outside in the cedar siding, a woodpecker was diligently creating a hole. Each time I’d see him working his way through the side of my house, I’d wonder how I was going to deal with this issue, for surely a hole made by a bird in o
Back in the day… Before cell phones Before land lines were obsolete Before my mom died, She and I had a late-night code: one of us would call the other and let it ring only once (so as not to wake everyone as all the phones in the house would ring) when we had something to talk about. The other would know to return the call. No matter what hour of the night. We would’ve already spoken that day, and we were living only a few houses apart from each other so there’s a good chance we had visited too, but those late night calls-when the world settled down to stillness and silence…we would share what only mothers and daughters share. It was such a simple gesture, those calls. I probably took it for granted-the fact that my mom was just one ring away. But those moments became some of my favorite memories. My mom is gone now but still, I leave my cell phone ringer on at night. I say it’s for emergencies but I think equally so it’s for the non-emergencies-when one of my daughters feel