As I sat on my deck this evening, a male and female yellow Finch arrived for one of their multiple daily visits to my feeders. I've watched them almost every day for the past few months. I love how the male is resplendent with his bright lemony yellow markings and beautiful feathered body. The petite, silky female seems so well suited to her mate. Strong yet yielding. I love to watch as they swoop down to first one feeder and then another. To see him move to a new feeder only to have her join him is to watch the very basis of a relationship. He watches out for her and she, for him. I've seen at times, other birds come to the feeders and in silent understanding the Finches, together, relocate to enjoy their meal in peace. As they fly away they seem to have a rhythm to their relationship. Each has their own identity that serves as the support and nourishment to the other's.
A strong marriage for humans is the same. During my 28 plus years of marriage, we had a rhythm. The beat often changed and we certainly passed the role of the drummer back and forth over the years. In the early years, I was so young. I looked to my husband for almost everything I needed. As I look back, that was almost the ruin of our lives together. I became so dependant on him that I didn't know my worth. As we struggled to pay bills, raise kids and get two steps ahead in the game, we almost lost each other. We did at one point have a very serious, no yelling or screaming, discussion of ending our union. Then something happened. A series of tragic life events hit us and hit us hard. Injuries, illness and then a death over the course of a few years, caused us to cling to each other in order to just get through the day. I took drastic steps to become the partner he needed. He became my very best friend, and I his. We had found what we should have begun with. When I was about 16 my father told me, "You don't marry the man you can live with, you marry the man, you can't live without". I knew during that time, so many years later, exactly what my father meant. My life and our rhythm were set in stone from that time forward.
The rhythm of our lives did change in such a positive way over the years. We managed school schedules, sports travel, business trips and a number of multi state moves for careers. One move had us living 600 miles apart for almost 4 years. Our rhythm stayed essentially the same... instead of a good morning kiss, I woke up to a "good morning, I love you" via telephone. where once was a snuggle to sleep was replaced with talking on the phone until one of us began the gentle breathing of a deep restful sleep. We made the most of our day and a half together each week. Many weekends were spent in hotels as we traveled to watch sporting event for our children or visit them at college. The rhythm of our chores however,changes dramatically. He learned to do laundry and chose to do it daily. I did mine weekly. He liked to plan out all his meals, I figured out what I had a taste for and picked it up on the way home. I took over yard work and enjoyed it. Bill paying was a phone discussion in an effort to keep "business" out of our precious weekend time together. A few years ago we were blessed to be offered positions in the same state...even in nearby towns. We jumped at the chance. As our rhythm changed yet again we discovered how to live together on a full time basis. Challenges came when he would do his and only his laundry, a small load every day. My husband would make his and only his lunch. I remember standing one night and watching him pack up leftovers for the next day. He looked up and was perplexed that I was questioning why he couldn't make my lunch at the same time. But we got past all that and really enjoyed living together again. Our beat was to the same drummer. We grocery shopped together at one of those ultra big supermarkets.. never dividing the list but walking the isles together, laughing and people watching. My husband could look at me and crack me up to such a degree that it could be embarrassing. We planned our menus, planned our weekends so we could be together as much as possible. Last year when we plotted out 2 islands in our yard for Maples trees and flowers, I said I wanted to have bird feeders. My husband just shook his head. I have been terrified of bird for many years. Even my kids stopped asking me to go in the bird house at the zoo, gosh it's was years ago. But we put up bird feeders and began watching the Doves, Finches, Cardinals, Robins and whatever else found it's way to feast and feast with passion. We planted perennials to attract bird.. we loved to watch and listen. One evening, out on the deck, my husband caught my eye and motioned for me to slowly turn my head. Just over my shoulder were two tiny, tiny Hummingbird flitting from flower to flower on our Hibiscus plant. Once they left we jumped at the chance to learn more about them. We got the right feeder, food and plants that they liked. We watched them daily, together. Late last fall we were enjoying the pre-sunset stillness when a large Hummingbird came up to my husband face and hovered... looking him in the eye it seemed. The bird did the same to me...and flew away. That was the last time my husband saw a Hummingbird. When my best friend died, I lost all sense of rhythm. I went without clean clothes for a few weeks. I know how to do laundry but it wasn't my chore. I can't seem to shop in that ultra big supermarket anymore. I've been in there once. I couldn't manage the size. I don't plan meals nor can I manage cooking for one, so I either eat out or eat at home but cookway too much. I still buy things I never ate but he did. I've thrown so much food out because it's spoiled that it is shameful. I don't want to beat my own drum. The other day, the Hummingbirds finally returned. I had not seem them all season. I was sitting on the deck and a big Hummingbird came right up to me as it had last year... could it be the same one? He seemed to want to see my face... I looked at his tiny face and saw all the wonderful colors his iridescent feathers had to display. And then he left. I have seen many Hummingbirds at my feeders everyday since.
It makes sense to tell the real story of my bird-phobia here. The scene is the inside of a 1972 VW Squareback. The blue beast as some friends called it. I was a newly licenced drive and was at a notoriously difficult intersection. No stop lights, only stop signs and hills and just the stuff a new driver has nightmares about. As I sat there, the drivers window open, waiting for the right moment to press the gas and ease up on the clutch.. a huge Black bird flew in my car. It had nowhere to go. No windows were open except mine. Back then there were no power windows and I couldn't reach the crack to get another window lowered. BAM! The Black bird slammed in to my head. CRASH! it hit the passenger window. The horrible painful noise the frantic flapping of it's wings made still gives me chills today. Ultimately I jumped out of the car and stood on the side of the road. Eventually the bird flew out of the car and I made my way to my destination. Scared, frightened, shocked and wing-beaten, I knew then that I would never let another bird get that close to me again.
But I have. So I know that what has scared me, hurt me, frightened me and made me feel as if I would never recover... can get better with time. I can overcome and enjoy again. I am positive I can find beauty and love again. I can look to the Finches, watch their rhythm. While it may not be the rhythm I'm used to,I can learn a new rhythm and I can certainly enjoy a new drummer.
I hope so...
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