The Heron

I got home the other night and there was a package for me.

“Oh no,” I thought. “What did I order that I don’t remember?”

So I ripped in to it and pulled out a small box. Racking my brain for jewelry I must have ordered, I saw there was a card.

Then I opened the box and saw a gold oval disc on a gold chain with a heron stamped in to it.

And I cried.

I sat down on the cold kitchen tile and started to sob.

I pulled myself up and went to get a tissue.

Matt walked in and I turned to him and leaned in to his chest and started to sob again.

Then Emilio walked in. He stopped. Assessed the situation. And walked over and started to hug me too.

And I thought, in that moment, how good it is for him to see this.

To see his strong, capable, I get it all done Mom, break down and cry.

Either he asked me why, or if everything was ok, or I assumed he would so I told him I was just sad.

Just sad.

I texted my friend who sent the necklace my tear stained face, with it around my neck, and told her it was the ball hitting me in the head.

“When I saw it it was already yours” she replied, and sent me her tear stained face right back.

I don’t remember where I got that metaphor from, but it is one we’ve used often in the 20 years we’ve been best friends.

*******

My Dad’s favorite bird was the Great Blue Heron, well maybe one of his favorites.

He loved spotting them. Especially out on a lake in a kayak.

The majestic wing span. The grace with which they moved their long lanky bodies across the water.

After his death, seeing one was a welcome reminder of his energy being back out in the universe in a way I needed. It still is. Even 13 years later.

Since we’ve moved, a year ago now, I see herons more often than I ever did before. I see them fly over our house and land in the little babbling brook across the street.

I see them driving home from daycare.

I see them flying over Emilio’s little league practice.

To me it is a symbol that I’m exactly where I should be. As messy, and hard and scary as the world may feel right now. I’m here. Where I am. Where I should be.

*******

Later that night, or maybe it was a few nights after that I told all of this to Matt.

Sitting on the couch.

Knowing the children who I am leaving this world to were nestled safely in their beds above me.

Knowing I had to be separated from one the next week and my feelings about that.

Knowing that the rights of parents were being stripped away in all various forms all around the country.

And him, in his pragmatic, grounded, direct way said something that really resonated with me. “Every point in history has this. No matter where you are, or when, there are horrible things happening. And we keep moving forward.”

And he’s right, of course.

And still. The ball hit felt really impactful right now.

Even 13 years later

Even a year later

Even with all the beauty and security and YES that came with this move.

Life is hard,

And beautiful,

And messy.

And I needed that heron as a reminder that I am strong. I am here. The universe will keep spinning and I’m along for the ride whether I choose to be or not. And I want to choose it. I want to be present. For the mess and the beauty. For the tears and the wins.

When I live in the moment, I see those herons flying overhead.

And I’m right there with them.

Gracefully managing the flight regardless of the baggage I carry.