My Red Feathered Friend

            

A cardinal has been hanging around my house lately. 

Last week he visited for three mornings in a row, usually around 7am. I heard him chirping away, calling out for his friends, as I sat at the kitchen table taking my first few sips of coffee. 

Each day I tried to take a photo of him. The one above was the best I could take - because each time I pulled out the 'real' camera (with the awesome zoom lense), he'd fly away. Almost as if he was saying, "Nope, I am not here for that. I am here just for you." 

I got smart, and started to leave the camera on a little end table in my living room - with camera out of bag and lense already on, I was ready for his close-up. 

He didn't come by the two days following.

Darn Bird.  

So me, my Cardinal, and my little iPhone camera meet up. 

I love when he comes by. Because I feel like he is my Dad, checking on me. Just letting me know that he is around. 

I still need my Dad from time to time. 

It has probably been five years since my Dad was in one of my dreams. But this morning, I woke up crying . . . because this morning, he appeared. 

Ever have one of those dreams that you don't want to wake up from? 

That was me. Today. 

I dreamt that I was working at Holy Cross Hospital (an old employer of mine). I was working on the 5th floor - the telemetry floor. It was crazy busy in my dream, and I was sitting at a large round table with a husband and wife who were there visiting someone. I was talking to them, and all of a sudden I looked up - and there was my Dad, sitting right across from me. He wasn't looking at me - he was looking just past me - but I tried to get his attention, as this woman sitting next to me continued talking on and on. Occasionally we'd make eye contact, my Dad and I, and I told the woman next to me, "that's my Dad. That man, he is my Dad." He smile at me a few times. Someone came up to him and I heard him say my husbands name. "Phil," he said. I heard my fathers voice, a voice I haven't heard in over 12 years. And he said Phil. 

How strange is that? 

I could tell, at that moment, that I was starting to wake up in the real world. And I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to leave the dream. I didn't want to leave my Dad. 

So I cried. 

And I woke to tears falling down my face. 

He looked so good. So healthy. So alive. 

And then, he was gone. 

This morning, I sat down for my cup of coffee, and heard my Red Feathered Friend outside again. My eyes filled up with tears. I didn't go and look at him today. But just knowing that he was nearby meant the world to me. 

Wishing you, and all your feathered friends, Peace. 

xo