I am out of town, at an important meeting, but I wanted to take a minute to remember with you about the bird nest. Three tiny birds hatched in a small horsehair nest, one blue egg lay un moving off to one side. Grandpa moved his trailer to take Tony the mule on a camping trip and the nest fell to the ground. These is not birds, Grandma, its worms. They are pink and have no feathers. They are made of skin like worms, I offer. And they just came naked out of their little eggs. They’ll grow feathers soon. No, Grandma, they don’t. They’s worms. And they’s dead. They died, now, you tell me. They can’t see and they can’t walk or eat their food. Cuz’ they’s dead. You took the nest and set it on the deck and went to the sandbox. Moving on. I heard you singing a made up song about birds missing their mommies because she had to get some food and forgot to find her nest. You repeat the refrain, “cuz’ you died now” over and over until your song faded.
I heard you singing yesterday in the bathroom. Are you done, buddy? need help? Not yet. I’s singing to my poops. Oh yeah? They’s sad. Hmmm. You peeked down through your legs into the potty. Its dark and they’s worried. Who? My little poops miss their daddy and mommy. I only maded the little poops. The big ones are in my tummy. I can’t make the daddy one. The little ones is crying now. You told me with concern as you look down. Sad? I ask. No, worried. Worried about what? Worried about the flushing down. Hmmm. Are you worried, too? No, of course not. And you say good-bye and flush. Finished now.
The baby birds is alive, now. You squeak and peep, cradling the nest. You flap and fly and dig nests for a few hours.
Salvador left a gopher in the garden bed that he’d removed from the trap. He wanted Grandma to see the result of his efforts. You were certainly impressed. Dang. Its died now Grandma. He getted the nasty gopher for us. Can I have it? I put it in a basket for you and you carried it to the dirt and we buried it. A little while later I stepped out to see you cradling its body and holding it under the faucet. He haded dirt in his eyes, Grandma. I getted him all cleaned up.
Oh dear. Its so complicated. You are managing so well little fellow. Your regard for the preciousness of life, even tiny little lives is honorable, dear and very sweet to behold. I am confident that you will continue to find ways to discover your feelings, craft ideas, and provide voices to inanimate objects (evan dead ones) Love you more each day, Buddy. gma