Skip to main content

The Robin Reminds Us...

 

The Robin reminds us...


In January of 2020, as I ran during seemingly mostly cloudy, damp winter days, birds seemed to chirp endlessly.  I'd never recalled hearing such levels of a variety if birds calling out in any state, especially the one I reside in, during the month of January. Let alone the winter months.  Back then, I took it as a sign. I didn't know why. I just did.

It  did remind me of a friend I have.  She is practically old enough to have been my mature mother. She's in her 90s now. She, now retired from law enforcement.   It's been years since she worked  all sorts of assault cases. Brutal, bloody assault cases.  I know because the ones that haunted her, few she could not solve she told me about one evening two years ago. And they were probably the most heinous cases one could know. That evening as I sat on a heavy bag in my basement that night, she began. I listened to her tell me of the unsolved cases for ninety minutes.

Her and I have had many conversations over nearly the past thirty years we've known each other. One day she said to me, "When I see a cardinal I know my Mother is present."  She has said this over those nearly three decades I've known her,  probably a good three times. However, after the first time, it remained in my mind.  Just the way she said it, voice and all remained.

So, today as I sipped my morning coffee after all chores were done, and my children were in school. I saw what I've now seen for the past few mornings. A Robin looking directly at me, sitting on the green metal posts to help correct  a now over five foot tall Red Maple tree I pulled from our lawn about five or six years ago when it was merely an inch in height.

Every morning this Robin looks at me straight on as if to tell me something.  I thank it, and God as I do every morning only it now seems expanded to this one bird. At night as in the morning to this day, I hear birds chirping seemingly every day, clearly. So clearly as if I'm being delivered a personal concert from nature and God.

This morning these reminders brought me to do some research on Robins.  They represent patience and wisdom. ---Jody-Lynn Reicher

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Reicher's Official Holiday Letter

  “When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.” ---Ralph Waldo Emerson There are many ways to shed light on seemingly impossible situations or what we would consider obstacles to our daily living. It is not always in our daily intake and output that is the measurement of a human being. It is the grind. Some people struggle with miniscule grinds; while others have bus loads to grind through. Some don’t make it. Few do. Making it, is not, not dying. It’s progressing through even when there appears no light at the end of the tunnel. That there may not even be a twinkle of a star in the nights ahead. And the human that faces that, knowing full well that they can’t change the ending to their earthly story. Yet, they consciously go through the process, has made it. They’ve lived. No matter their age, I believe that, to be one of Life’s truths. As this year has progressed, the pandemic actually blessed us. Yep. Many would not agree with that. But then, they weren’t us. They weren’t our

To Laconia and Canada Too

 He began, "So, I got this deal..."  Me, "Yeah?" Norman,  "I went up on 23, and saw her. " Me, "Where did you go?" Norman, "Sport Spot on 23 South.  And there she was." Me, "Uh oh."😊 Norman,  "I'm graduating to a BMW.  She was sitting there. 1986, an R80RT. A touring sportster... " Me, "What about the Yamaha, Norm?" Norman, "I'll get a buyer before I have to pick up the R80RT." It was 1987, we'd just had a semi long motorcycle ride up North together for a week. New England that'd be.  Norman was all enthralled about the open road. Married just over three years at the time, and he rediscovered a new love.  Me wary, yet curious.  'Maybe she'll ride easier.  Less bumpy on certain roadways of upstate New York'. Norman even had me considering getting a motorcycle license.  I'd driven nearly every style, engine from small military jeep to tractor trailers...

Completion of Humanness

Completion of Humanness As we arrive to the completion of the first year without Norman, I had decided long before he'd passed that I would continue to do things certain things he liked yet could no longer do. I decided I would not take a day off of fitness.  I would run at least for 500 days in a row. I began that in early 2020.  I'd not be concerned with the distance I'd run. It was the very thing I convinced Norman and the thing that mattered to him, from the very first discussion we had August 11th, 1981, was fitness. I loved that he was a College Boy. He loved that I was a Marine. We tickled each other's soul with such admirations. Later fitness continued as an old discussion from 1994 ...getting outside and to run no matter what. I would say to him, "Run 200 meters, then 400 meters. If it doesn't feel good, stop. Turn around and walk back home and know you did your best. That is all you can ask of yourself." I said this,  knowing he would get dow