Bird Tweets

Day 243 What else is there besides the image?

Do you believe a photograph records what the eyes see? Or do you ask for more than a visual revelation? Often when i am taking a photograph my intention is to capture what my eyes see. However that isn't what happens. Never. In fact i have yet to have the experience of looking into the viewfinder, pressing the shutter, and finding that twin image on my LCD screen. Mostly i experience bewilderment at the contrast between what i see and what i get. That isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes i 'see' something that has little to do with my eyes, something that is revealed when time is stopped in it's tracks and the viewer a willing pilgrim. Other times i wonder if perhaps i do not have the necessary compositional eye to be a good photographer. One is the voice of the heart, the other the voice of the mind. The magical or technical. Which will i chose?

As i drove through the desert on my way home from Phoenix i would look out the window and see something that i should capture with my camera. There was a gold-mine of compelling photographs sliding past and yet each time we stopped my resulting images neither rang true to the physical reality or the heart. I didn't feel much. I think my heart was too busy, too distracted to be fully present for taking good pictures. I decided to surrender and let go of effort. I just looked out the window and let my mind wander. 

On the last day we stopped for lunch and walked down a wooded path that led to a river. There were no people or cars, nothing to distract from the sounds of the wind and the song of the river. It was here that i found what i was longing for. I watched in silence as the natural world around me came to life. Instead of the camera i had binoculars. If i wanted to capture and hold something of the moment it would have to be with my own memory, my heart. We saw a brilliantly colored bird dart over the river to meet it's mate. It was such a surprise, like nothing i had ever seen before. Then an otter slid out of the water on the opposite bank and went about the business of doing whatever it is that otters do when they are on land. There were dozens of swallows that swooped in formation  making that trilling, chirruping sound. Their choreographed movements seems to reveal a hieroglyphic message that i couldn't understand. They flew with a natural grace and agility that they made me smile. A little ground squirrel stood quite near and watched us watch him darting into the ground when we turned the other way. Like he was trying to keep a secret. All of these things made me feel glad to be alive. Happy to be able to walk upon this glorious earth.  

The only photograph i kept from our trip is this one of my sister and me as we stood front of our Dad's house for the last time. 

When taking a photograph what are you looking for besides the image itself?

Love, robin

Day 242 Living The Fleeting Moments

The memorial service for my father was everything i could have hoped for. My sisters and i were close, my husband and daughter, nephews, nieces and spouses were there to say farewell. Each person's offering of love helped to ease the aching sadness of loss.

I know there has been a long silence on my blog. It hasn't been easy to know what i wanted to post so i gave myself time to unfurl. I believe I have willfully remained in a liminal state of suspense and anxiety about what the next stage of this 'right of passage' will be like. I literally feel i am standing upon the threshold of becoming an orphan, bereft of parental love and protection. In all fairness it is little more than a psychological state at this point in my life but frightening nonetheless. 

I awoke this morning to a room illuminated with a burning glow. When i turned my head to the window i saw that the lace curtains were ablaze with glimmering light, the color of ripened mangoes.  The sun seemed to be declaring with fervor that the break of day was upon us. It made me smile as i realized that today is my birthday. I thought of my parents and what this day, 56 years ago might have meant to them. I have never really thought about my birthday as belonging to anyone other than myself but today, i knew for the first time, that it belonged to three people equally, my mother, my father and me. Happy birthday to us all.

Which brings me to the title of this post.  My visit to Chicago was not just about letting go of my father. Seeing Olivia  made me just sing with delight. She said "hi Nee Nee" and hugged me when i came in the door. I was abruptly brought to the level of a two year old's world. And what a world it is!! Who knows better than a 2 year old how to live in the moment? Olivia is full of a wonder and curiosity that pulsates with joy.

This was the first time my husband Joe and i were able to visit her at the same time. The experience was amazing. I watched and listened intently as they visited the world of The Pigeon Who Wanted to Drive the Bus. 

We were all transported to the immediate dilemma of that goofy pigeon who wasn't allowed to Drive The Bus. Poor pigeon had a tantrum.

Then there was a visit from my on-line friend Kelly who manages to come to see me every single time i am in Chicago. I know she also comes to see Olivia and to dwell in the land of the fleeting moments and experience this minute as the best place in the world to be. Ask Olivia. She was finding herself compelled to dance, and jump and do acrobats she had never ever dreamed of for the sake of entertainment. Who does that? :)

"Can you give Kelly a hug?"  

And of course there is the fact that i was in the blissful presence of my own child. I cherish and adore my child and i followed her from room to room just like Olivia did. I think we both (me and Olivia) were after the same thing:  to be immersed in whatever moment Rachel/Mamma  happened to occupy as she went through her day. We seemed to bump into each other a lot as rachel was the only one who actually knew what she was doing. We were just along for the ride. Does anyone get what i mean?

Whenever i was touching Olivia, which was a lot of the time, I couldn't help but breathe in that moment as though it were the oxygen of life.  I think loving a child is like that. It is for me. Like breathing in life and recognizing the gift of a beating heart.

And there was a wedding!!! My nephew and his new wife had a glorious celebration for us all. Isn't this just one of the best kisses you have ever seen?!? 

This is my sister Lynn, mother of the groom, Jeremy. That is Joe my husband looking on. Everyone seemed to be glowing with happy. Not 'drunk happy, or party happy'. More like joyful happy. In the moment happy. You all know the difference i think.

I will leave you with  a photo of my little angel. She throws tantrums, she sings, she talks to her bear and dances with any stuffed animal who is willing. She cries, she runs and tries to jump in the air. She is uncooperative about eating her vegetables, she isn't always reasonable about taking a nap. She is just perfect in every way. And she knows the secret of living right in the middle of now. She's not worrying about later or fretting about yesterday or setting goals for next year. She is immediate and right now and full of wisdom. 

Love, robin

p.s. I am leaving for Phoenix in the morning to help close up my Dad's house. I promise i will answer your loving e-mails and visit you all as soon as i can. 

p.s.s I have left you with a song that i think embodies this notion of living in the fleeting moment. If you want to listen you will need to click the start button on the player. Enjoy and think about it....

Day 241 Saying Goodbye

Once again i will be traveling to Chicago. This time it is to say a final goodbye to my father. I don't know how it will be to do this. I expect it will feel like my heart is breaking in a million little pieces. But also, in contrast to the sadness there will  be a sense of celebration of a well lived and long life. It was easy to love my father.

We are having a military service for him, with a 21 gun salute, taps and the presentation of the American flag to his family. We are his family, his three daughters who loved him in life and will miss him deeply. I think my father would be astonished if he were to be there to experience this loud and passionate farewell. He was a  quiet man, gentle and humble. But we think he is someone who deserves an honor guard to take him to his final place of rest. He would perhaps even smile a bit at our audacity. All who met or knew my Father would not ever think of him as a soldier. And yet, like all young men who find themselves called to defend all that is good in this world he was what he felt he needed to be and did what he thought right at the time.

We will miss you Dad and hold all the memories of our own lifetime of being daughters. We will tell our own children and their children the stories that are best to remember you by.

And when the time comes for me to find my own final place of rest i hope i will see you, that i can hold your hand and listen to your quiet voice tell me all is well and as it should be. Amen

Love, robin

Day 240 My Little Buddha Bird

This is the story of a little bird that knows deep down in her little bird heart that no matter what the grown-ups think....everything is going to be alright. Here is what she says we need to do.....listen to our music, turn up the volume and...

"Come on guys lets do the wiggle dance!"

"Run in the grass as fast as you can!"

"Find a grownup who will play airplane!"

"Offer to hold hands with everyone you like."

"Smile a lot."

"Have good dreams."

"Go for walks in the park and talk about God."

"Ask someone teach you how to fly like a bird."

"Let someone carry you when you get tired."

"Relax once every day."

"Go out onto the playground and remind the big kids that everything is going to be alright."

Love, robin & olivia

Three Little Birds - Elizabeth Mitchell

Day 239 Barn House Angels

This past saturday was the Season Opening of Barn House It was magnificent weather for a visit to the countryside and the event itself surpassed in graciousness any garden party i have ever attended. For anyone who was there you know what i am talking about. The food, the hospitality, the artful setting and the wonderful treasures. All of it was all on a  grand scale! 

I took lots of photos but for now i wanted to post this particular pair of pictures in order to acknowledge the kindness and generosity that characterizes this wonderful group of people. Meet Jermonne, Debbie and Laurie, Sylvie, Cindy, Natalie, Joe and Julie.

My friends caused me to cry when they presented me with this bouquet of flowers together with a card acknowledging the recent death of my father. This is a very kind and thoughtful group of people and i am grateful to have become one of the Barn House Angels. 

Love, robin

Day 237 Livy, Lynny And The Noisy Parrot

After my Dad died i wanted very much to spend some time with Olivia. So my sister Lynn invited Rachel, Paul and Olivia over to her house and we made a plan to go to the petting zoo right down the road from her house. Alas the weather was horrible, the sky wild with thunder and lightening so we made up our own petting zoo adventure. Lynn and her fiancee Tim have a green parrot who's is something like 30 years old. He squawks and talks and generally makes lots of noise. He loves my sister Lynn and despises Tim. 

It was Olivia's first encounter with such a creature and she was completely amazed.

She was so surprised at the volume of the sound that came out of that bird's beak that she put her hands over her cheeks as if to say "my goodness what is wrong with that thing?!"  That's my sister Lynn in the background egging her on.

Then it was time to get up close and personal to see what he looked like. So Lynn brought them together  beady eye to eye. Olivia was being very careful just in case squawking was dangerous :)

Ahh... good luck for Olivia..it was time for his morning potato chips!

Love to you all, robin

Day 236 Flight

My Father died on April 23rd just the day after i arrived home to see him. He did not wake while i was there although he was aware of when i first arrived and greeted him with a kiss. He responded in turn with his own soft kiss and yet remained still and silent, eyes closed, drifting ever farther from my reach. It was a comfort to me that i was able to care for his body and stay physically close to him until he was gone. But there is no real comfort for the living once the curtain to life is closed. I have to surrender to the loss of opportunity to touch, to speak, to comfort and be comforted by my Father. The known qualities of expressed love are gone. It is possible there are other forms of love that are not yet known to me. I will wait and see what offering death lays at my feet and take what i can bear.

When you come to the edge of all the light you

know,

and are about to step off into the darkness of the 

unknown,

faith is believing one of two things will happen:

There will be something solid to stand upon,

or you will be taught how to fly.

Barbara J. Winter

I have much to be thankful for, not the least of which is the love and support i have received from my blogging friends. Each prayer, every wish and all of your words of comfort have helped me to feel the promise of life and all the love i have yet to offer.

Love, robin

Day 235 Meet My Dad

I am at the airport this morning having decided i needed to go to my father sooner than i had planned. I have read all your heartfelt comments and taken them into my heart and mind. They all help. Thank you :) 

I had intended to tell you all about what it has been like to be his daughter for 56 years. The stories will have to wait but the images say what is important anyway. That's me in "tent" looking at him and my sister Lynn digging in the sand. It is 1957 in Florida on our annual family camping trip. The last image is my dad at about the age of 19 or 20. I talked to my dad on the phone yesterday and although he was unable to talk back to me i knew that he was listening because when i told him i planned to post this old photo of him because it is so handsome he actually laughed. Not loud, not so anyone else could tell what that small whisper meant but i knew. I knew he was amused.

Love, robin

Day 234 Fading Light

I told my friend yesterday that when i'm lost in heartache i find 'normal' communication baffling. I try to use words and i attempt to explain or tell the story of what is causing me pain. But after awhile when i can't seem to find my way to the solace of friendship or the comfort of understanding through those words i give up and get quiet. In some ways i hold onto sadness because it seems that words are an inadequate way to honor pain.

Regardless of how i feel the reality still exists. My dad who is 86 years old is suddenly dying. I don't even like to say it. It is like reporting a fact for the record but doesn't say anything about his experience or that of all who love him and will miss him. But the thing is, i know each of you have faced death and know in some measure what it is like to stand in my shoes. So i want to tell you, to let you into my circle of silence. My mother died 14 years ago and that was a heart wrenching time. And yet now, with my father dying it seems nearly unbearable to know i will soon be without any parent in this world. 

I'm not going to try and cheer myself up, or tell you "oh, i'll be alright". You know that already and i dislike stating the obvious at times like this :) I will be going to Chicago on Friday which is where my dad is right now. He's with my sister and that is a comfort to him i think. I will, as i always do, keep you close to my heart. Knowing you're all in my life makes me grateful. I have dozens of friends who care how i feel and send comfort and prayers. You are all a blessing. 

love, robin 

Day 188 The Arc Of Memory

Dear friends,

I'm glad to be home. So happy to pet my little dog, drink my own coffee, sleep in my own bed. Of course i miss my girls terribly. And they miss me too. We've talked on the phone each day and cried just a little bit. It was such a sweet visit with Rachel. I feel so close to her. And we smiled and laughed a lot at Olivia. Children are like the north star. If you follow them you will always be going in the right direction. They really are the center of the universe. I'm completely serious. 

Home is also a powerful force. Sometimes i get confused and i don't know if my home is a place or a feeling or a memory. While I was with my sisters we decided to visit some of the places where we grew up. My childhood memories of home are entwined with intense emotions. I know theirs are as well.

We drove the winding lane that leads to a small bungalow that was once my grandmother's house. All through my years of growing up i loved this house. After my grandfather died in 1955 my grandmother turned the small front parlor into an antique shop. It was filled to bursting with beautiful things. Old clocks that ticked asynchronously, colored glass in rich purple, sky blue and opalescent white. Old bureaus elaborately carved, their wood polished to a buttery sheen. This is where my father was born in 1922. My sisters sat quietly in the car and watched as i stood in the freezing cold taking photos of our memories. 

We spent the day visiting places that held poignant stories for each us. The graves of our grandparents. The last home that my father built. All the familiar streets we walked along as children on our way to the houses of friends, to school, to church.

I would very much like to show you the house my father built when he and my mother were first married but it has been torn down and a parking lot is in it's place. Even the writing of that fact hurts my heart. Memory is such a peculiar thing. In the afternoon we drove by the house we moved into when i was 9. It was a very modern house for it's time and it raised a lot of interest in town as it was erected by my father over the summer of 1961. As soon as i saw it i thought how ugly it is. It does not hold many happy memories for any of us. It is vacant and my sister who is a realtor made arrangements for us to go inside to see it. It was hardly recognizable as our house. We all thought it tacky and changed for the worse.

See that look on my sister's face while she stood in the upstairs hallway. That's what we all thought of the remodeling we saw.

This is a view from what my mother called "the formal living room." We were never allowed into this room because at the time the furniture was white and the carpet red. Of course we used to sneak into that room all the time when my parents were away. The forbidden fruit syndrome you know?

This is the front view of the house. We had a large kidney shaped swimming pool in the back but that was filled in long ago.

I took this final photo of my sisters walking arm and arm sweetly remembering the times they spent as children in this forested place. I held back to take the photo and as they approached the arc of the bridge it was like watching them walk back in time. They left the known world of their adult lives and entered into another yet equally familiar world of childhood. It was a moment of remembrance, a memory within a memory captured from the collapsed vision of my small viewfinder. I loved how it looked at the time and I loved how it made me feel when i saw this image revealed.

I am adding these photos to Maya's b&w November challenge over at Springtree Road. 

I am looking forward to spending my free time this weekend catching up on all your blogs. Of course you know i have missed you. I have to say i loved the comments of reassurance left for me over the past week that you would not forget me and that i could resume my place in the circle of blogging friendship as soon as i return.

Love, Robin