Watching and Waiting

When I was a little girl, I discovered I had a great love of  birds. I am sure that somewhere along the way,
my generous, kind, and tenderhearted Mother impressed such upon my own spirit. I can remember seeing black
and white photos of my brother and I as children feeding the ducks with my Mom standing close by.  In such simple measures, with breadcrumbs or crackers in hand, we were naturally taught to care, to give, to tend what is small.

This week, I became aware that a small child I know would soon be stepping over to Heaven.  He is six. I’ve known this dimpled kid since he was a bump in his mom’s belly.  His name is Brian, and he came to this earth to make a loving impression on each person he met.  He has been here… teaching all of us about resiliency and the value of good humor and to give this life all you’ve got.
 
One night this week, I had a dream not long after saying prayers for Brian and his family.  I dreamed I was in a place I had never been before and that I was on the second or third floor of a hotel.  As I was looking around, I noticed that the sliding glass door to the balcony was opened and I began to run toward that balcony to see what I might see.  Once there, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of this body of water below.  It was bluer than anything I’ve ever seen in my waking life.  It was pure, and fresh, and sparkling.  And then I noticed the children… lots of children swimming and playing and laughing in this water.  They were full to the brim with joy. 
And as I noticed their faces, they were also children who exuded wisdom. You could just see in the innocent sweetness of their faces… that they knew things we have yet to learn as adults. Within seconds of settling into all this peace, I then noticed that there were sharks in the water with the children.  I froze. Oh, no!  What am I to do?  How can I save these children?  How can I get down there fast enough to save them from the sharks?  But, look… the children aren’t afraid.  In fact, they are swimming with the sharks.  And in their wisdom, they know that there is no reason to fear.

When I awoke from this dream, I knew that it was about Brian. But what about the sharks?  Why did they show
up?  I had to know.  So I looked up the symbolism of sharks.  Here is what it said:  Sharks are not afraid to go into the deep.  They protect the sacred, which is life.  They hold a primal knowing.  They meet life full on and keep moving forward.  Sharks know death is a fallacy, and thus stay attuned to renewal and transition.  Brian lived his young life this way.  He just kept trying to teach the rest of us that we need not fear, that we only need to love and to live fully.

This morning, I took a walk.  Fog was on the edge of moving on, but called me into the mysterious grace of seeing and not seeing.  As the sun grew stronger and stronger, and the fog began to lift, the birds began to sing. 

And everywhere I went, there were birds singing and singing and singing.  I’d seek them out with myeyes always to locate them perched at the highest places they could find…rooftops, and the uttermost tops of trees. 

I knew that Brian was dying, but the birds were telling me that he was also about to fly, that he was soon to spread his bright wings and arrive at his first birthday party in Heaven.  He was moving forward into the deep delights of Heaven as the sharks announced in my dream.  And this afternoon, I am told that Brian has, in fact, arrived to the arms of God… and we are all so sad and so thankful and so heartbroken and so glad.  

Now, as the light hangs low in the sky, I will take one more walk to close this day.  I will give thanks that God is always here… in hospital rooms, in birdsongs, in the waters of the deep, and in the dimpled wisdom and love of a six year old boy. Brian was a lover of this life.  With each step I take, I will pray that we may each carry on with his spirit and with his grace.
 
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night…”