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When Robyn died, I suffered tremendous depression. I would sit in
his studio and stare at the place that he worked. The paintings
and paint droppings were left as a vivid reminder, coloring my memory of
him. Days went by then months, and my depression and loss never
varied. My family, who also was suffering, could do nothing for me
other than wait for things to change.
One day as
I came out of Robyn's studio, my son noticed that I was being followed
by a blue jay. Of course I didn't pay any attention at the
time. I simply stumbled into the house as usual without giving it
much thought.
The very
next day my wife, Wanda, noticed that the blue jay was outside in the
bottlebrush tree, as if he were waiting for me to come out so he could greet
me. My curiosity aroused, I broke up some bread crumbs and went
outside with them in my hand. Almost immediately, the blue jay
flew to me and began to eat the crumbs from my hand. This was very
unusual behavior for a blue jay.
The bird
began to visit me around nine months after Robyn died. He would
come everyday, two to three times a day, and I could feel my depression
beginning to lift, the novelty of this vulnerable creature feeding from
my hand, perching on my shoulders, and making me feel connected to him
in some unspoken way.
The blue
jay visited me for around three more months. As the days went by, his
frequency of visits became less and less, which seemed to be okay.
I could let him go, slowly......The last visit of the blue jay
came. I remember that day well. The last day that my little
friend came was an anniversary. It was one year to the day that my
beloved Robyn had died.
Was it a
coincidence? I don't know. I don't think it matters.
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