Hummingbirds for Granny
August 16, 2017
In these special, endearing, final moments, hummingbirds are there to comfort, there to care for Granny, as she always cared for them.
There for Granny.
Doubly there for Granny.
In these moments.
These special moments.
These special, endearing, final moments.
Hummingbirds to comfort.
There to care, as she always cared for them.
There to supplant the tears.
Bright, reassuring smiles.
For those, too, there round-the-clock for weeks and weeks and weeks at the bedside:
And the family pets.
Mustn’t forget the family pets.
Those there with her in her final moments know the story.
Her home feeder was always filled for the Hummingbirds. She enjoyed them when she went to the mountains. Gifts given her often had a Hummingbird theme.
She loved them.
They loved her.
Flocked to her.
And she to them.
So, now, with nothing special there to attract them – no flowers, no feeders –they appear in these final moments.
Appear outside her window.
Just suddenly there.
As time draws near.
To the window.
Away from the window.
Back to the window.
As if trying to peer inside.
As if they know.
As surely they do.
There, seemingly to say to Granny and the others there, no, no, no, this is not the end, this is the beginning.
The joyful beginning.
There, as if ready to escort her.
Escort her – lovingly escort her – to what is next.
There to comfort, ease the way.
Nothing else accounts for their being there.
Nothing obvious to attract them.
Doubly there for Granny
And those there with her.
And we know why.
And we know why.
Now others do, too.
Roger Summers is a journalist, essayist, and lives sometimes in Texas and sometimes in New Mexico. He is the author of Word Songs From A Washboard Road. Please click HERE to find the short story collection on Amazon.