A couple of years ago, while watering the some plants, I accidently hosed down a hummingbird's nest. I couldn't really tell if there were babies in it or not, but I felt just horrible, and that feeling lasted for several days. In fact, to avoid my self-inflicted upset, I had to move the potted tree to a location where I could not see it from the house.
Although it was truly an accident, I couldn't help but feel that I could have avoided it. If I had only examined every branch (totally impractical if not impossible), I might not have possibly injured an innocent life form. But these are the thoughts we think when painful things and accidents happen.
Internal bargaining (the woulda, shoulda, couldas) is part of our grieving process, and without going through it, we can't move on with our lives. This whole circle of life thing (yes, I saw "The Lion King") is, at once, beautiful and horrible. Learning to ride the waves, sometimes a gentle ripple and sometimes a tsunami, is much harder than it seems from a distance.
When you have experienced the cycle a few times, you do come to accept and even respect it, but for the newly initiated, it may only feel sad. Those of us who have strengthened ourselves by living through the loss of something we've loved know that alternatives, even miracles, appear to help us balance our lives once again.
Over the holidays I moved some faux trees from the living room to the front porch in order to make room for the traditional decorations. This spring they were still there, and just the other day I noticed a hummingbird jetting out of the wannabe ficus. Upon closer examination, I saw that Momma-Hummer had built her nest in the plastic branches, and I have had the pleasure of watching her two babies grow daily. I find it a little magical that real life can come from a fake tree.
We have even taken to exiting the house through the garage in order to not disturb the baby birds. And for some reason, it makes me feel like I am healing the past.
Throughout our lives there are opportunities to make up for losses and give ourselves, as well as those we care for, second chances. Even if you think that you could never replace what was lost, life has a way of giving back what was taken away. It may come as a surprise, or it you might develop over time; in either case, what we think has been lost may someday and somehow return.
Today was bittersweet. The babies have gotten so big, I wondered how they could still fit in the tiny nest. We finally got some good pictures, and sure enough, by the afternoon they had flow away. And it all just makes me feel that I am privileged to share in this experience we have come to call life. What a gift.
