Thursday, December 18, 2008

little birds in little hands

Last week, a bird hit the sliding glass door and richoted into the waiting jaws of our avian-loving canine. I extracted the frightened little dark-eyed junco from the jaws of chicken-hell but the poor terrified bird shook and gasped before dying in my hands. After its' passing, the kids and I looked at its' body and the wonder of its' making. When you rarely hold a small bird in your hands, they seem like tiny miracles. That something so tiny and fragile can fly, create other small flight prone creatures, and do it all while being the size of the palm of my hand.

I am finding that being forced to deal with the death of her daddy has made Olivia have less of a fearful outlook on death. I realize that to an adult it would seem more logical to become more terrified of death after what happened. But I think it put life more into perspective for her. She seems to a conviction and answers to questions about life and death that I have not been able to give her. She is wise beyond her years when it comes to the loss of our loved ones. This doesn't mean that she isn't heartbroken. But she isn't as afraid now. Her terror seems to be waining. And for this, I am so utterly thankful. I want peace for my little ones.




3 comments:

Poppy and Mei said...

"I want peace for my little ones."
...and for you too Jackie, for you too...XXxx

Lori said...

She's so beautiful = ) And she just looks all-knowing and tranquil in that picture.

Crash Course Widow said...

Anna doesn't seem very fearful of death either. She just takes it in stride, as a normal part of life, it seems.

Then again, she asked me tonight why everyone's daddies died, after we had a brief conversation at bedtime about death. It's hard to be truthful with them without giving them a delusion that everyone's daddies die. But Anna's only 4, and she's just now starting to ask all these questions.

That last photo with Liv and the bird is just beautiful.