Robin's 'Hood

Welcome once again to the robin's 'hood. I don't actually know if my bird is a robin, but he's brown and he has a rust-colored breast, so my limited knowledge about birds leads me to believe that he may be a robin.

Anyway, I started this blog with the original intent of expressing my feelings about an earlier tragedy in my life. I recently lost my 46-year-old son very suddenly. He was our only child. I'm still dealing with the pain of his loss and I thought perhaps this blog would allow me to channel some of my grief in a constructive way.

However, given the dramatic change of world affairs, I am now approaching this from an entirely different perspective. And with the hope that we are able to avoid this potential tragedy. I will tuck my grief away for a time when our world is not in such turmoil.

My husband and I are sheltering in place and have been doing so for almost a week, except for one trip to the grocery store and one to the pharmacy. Modern day Americans are definitely not prepared for staying inside their homes for any length of time. 

It is extremely difficult as is demonstrated by the number of people still walking around on the beaches and city sidewalks. It is unclear if these people just refuse to believe this is happening or if they feel impervious to this virus. It is clear that they have little concern for the effect their foolishness may have on the older population. 

There are also those who respect the knowledge and experience of the healthcare officials and are trying to comply with current restrictions.

Today I saw someone on a newscast kissing the coffin of a loved one lost to COVID-19. I can only say I hope that those non-compliant people ignoring the warnings being given do not have to experience a loss like that.

Welcome To The Robin's 'Hood

Welcome to the robin's 'hood. I'm not certain the bird at my window is a robin, but I think it is. He's brown with a rust-colored breast. He's been coming to my window for almost three years now, landing on the sill and relentlessly flapping his wings against the window, making it seem that he really wants to come inside.

The window is my bedroom window, but if I move into the bathroom, he follows me and flaps his wings against that window, letting me know that he knows where I am. When I go back to the bedroom, he once again appears there.

It has been almost three years since my son died, unexpectedly, without warning. The robin began appearing about four months after his death. I believe there are messages attached to his visits. I just have to figure out what they are.