Wild Things

My daughter and her children volunteer at wildlife rehabilitation center that is vastly over burdened and dependent solely on donations and volunteers. She travels some distance each week to lend a hand and I told her I would love to help if there was something I could do at home. That’s how I came to have wild birds in my home for a ‘soft release.’ She brings me cages of juvenile birds. They have been robins and finches so far but I lobbied (unsuccessfully) my husband to buy a dog run for the crows.

The birds she brings have been injured, rescued and nursed back to health by others. My part is to place their cages in the backyard with a cloth over the top to conceal them from the sharp eyes of raptors overhead and feed them 3 times a day. The hardest part has been decapitating the mealworms. Live mealworms, swallowed whole by robins, can eat through the crop of the birds thus killing them. At night, I cover the cages and bring them in for protection from nocturnal predators from whom the cages trap them with insufficient security. I do all of this silently, suppressing my natural inclination to coo reassuringly to them that I mean them no harm as they thrash about the cage when I change their water or food dishes. They are WILD THINGS and fear of humans and other predators will serve them well and protect their lives in the real world so feed them & clean the bottom of the cages as quickly and quietly as I can and withdraw, leaving them to become familiar with the sights and sounds of the backyard. I follow this routine for three days and on the fourth day, after they have had breakfast, I open the cage doors and retreat.

I watch them through a window as they chatter nervously and flit about deciding eventually to leave the security of the cage and fly away. I leave food out for a few days while their survival skills are honed. Each young bird has its own personality and are not unlike my own children as they left the nest. One in the group flies out immediately flying quickly up and over the roof without hesitation. Another tentatively flies to a nearby tree, leaps among the branches, flies back into the cage chirping encouragement to another and then the two fly confidently out, up and out of sight. Others linger, flitting with agitated chirping, pausing at the open door and retreating back into the familiar cage and finally flying to a nearby tree. The last timid bird calling desperately for his cage mates finally flies in small bursts from tree to tree and branch to branch, lingering in the yard for sometime and returning for a few days. Eventually, they are all gone.

Out of sight, I watch prayerfully, asking that our God who is mindful of each sparrow that falls, (Luke 12:6) will watch over them, lead them to safe shelter for the night, guide them to find food and alert them to predators. I pray that they will find joy in their freedom and become able and strong and skilled in taking care of themselves. A few days after the first release of six robins, a huge flock of robins noisily descended in my front yard. There were many juveniles searching for worms and bugs on the ground while several adults watched from the trees. Were some of my ‘babies’ among them? I hope so. The young Wild Things are free to fly and struggle to survive. They have no way of knowing some of us caged and nourished them out of compassion and hopes of stacking the odds of survival in their favor. More young birds die from accidents and predators than can be helped; and on the scale of things, our efforts have no effect on the natural world but these small wild things enrich my life.

Seeing is NOT Believing

Seeing should not always be believing. I delete a lot of emails- even the ones that hint I will not be a good: friend, citizen, Christian . . . if I dare not to forward them on to at least ten others. Some of the emails I do click to experience the AMAZING photos, stories, videos, and so forth. One such titled the “Incredible Instrument !!” displayed a video of a fascinating set of pipes, conveyor belts, gears, wheels with balls shooting out of an assortment of pipes to strike the moving musically tuned bars, discs, chimes, drums and blocks all timed perfectly to make a catchy set of rhythms. The video was introduced with an elaborate fabrication detailing the amount of hours spent by engineers and musicians building it from farm equipment.

The incredible instrument was truly incredible to watch-- BUT it does not actually exist. It is a computer-generated video (which is still an amazing feat to me.) However, it is one of many examples of falsehoods circulated on the internet. It is a reminder to me Seeing is NOT Believing. Why concoct such a lie? I don’t know; but there is veritable flood of half-truths, falsehoods and calculated lies that spread easily with little thought by those who forward them on as to the validity. Last week I read about the miracle cancer-preventing diet supported by Johns Hopkins Medical Center—only Johns Hopkins had denied ever reporting such data. I find it distressing that it is not only commonplace and acceptable to lie and mislead but that so much time and effort are expended in generating and spreading lies. A video about imaginary “incredible instruments” may seem harmless but is any deception justifiable? The healthy diet encouraged by the Johns Hopkins Hoax email may be healthy but does the goal justify the lie?

I fear we are treading on dangerous ground when truth is not valued.

A Family Record

“Our real blessings often appear to us in the shape of pains, losses and disappointments; but let us have patience and we soon shall see them in their proper figures.” Joseph Addison

My father continues to survive lung cancer and it’s accompanying dementia intensified by his near blindness due to macular degeneration. Almost 10 months ago, the oncologist said a biopsy would tell us exactly what type of cancer was eating away his lung and had wrapped itself around the aorta and spread to lymph nodes BUT a biopsy would not change the outcome. He suggested we engage hospice. If the cancer is small cell cancer, which he suspected, my father would succumb naturally to its effects in 2 or 3 months; if it were the slower growing large-cell cancer, he could last 7 to 8 months. Ten months later, he coughs a little more but is still able to walk from his chair to the bathroom, dining table and bedroom and seems only slightly weaker than when we received the initial prognosis.

After the initial shock, we set into a routine of trying to care for him and eventually contracted with hospice. His dementia leaves him not only in a state of constant confusion but also frequently agitated and upset about some urgent task such as returning the non-existent rental car, the overdue books on tape, vacating the premises since we are not authorized to be here or getting off the ship, the island, the RV, etc., etc. Attempts to calm him with reason are futile and like today, he usually accuses my mother or us of being ‘crazy and needing to be in an institution.’

His physical care is not difficult but his constant badgering and impossible demands are wearing, especially on my mother. I have already experienced the grief of losing my father. Now are lives are in a holding pattern while we wait for him to die. I do not intend to sound callous but our reality is that we are caring for a deranged stranger and sometimes it’s difficult because he is not ‘him.’

I was in this state of mind when my cousin from New Jersey and his wife came to visit over the Labor Day weekend. It was then that we pulled out a video made by my talented son-in-law with input from all our family. The video was a labor of love composed of old photos, old home movies, recent interviews and recordings by myself and brother and our children. It was a love story of the courtship, marriage and family my parents created and the legacy they wove for their posterity. Many late nights went into its production and we presented it as a gift at the celebration of my parents Golden Wedding Anniversary. That was 14 years ago!

A remarkable and healing perspective came as I viewed this video that had been on the shelf for years. I saw photos and movies of my younger father and memories flooded back of the times we shared as I grew up and as he shared in the lives of my growing children. He was young and strong and much of the film was at the ocean’s edge or walking in the thickly forested mountains of California and Oregon. The shell of the man we care for now is not who my father is; the gospel message is the assurance that he will in time be raised in immortality and once again and for eternity, be at his prime with his mind and faculties fully restored. Meanwhile, the video helped restore memories and renew faith and hope in the future, making the present more patiently bearable.

I have always felt strongly inclined to keep a record of our family as it grew and changed. I did not foresee the circumstances we find ourselves in now but I am grateful now for the visual and vocal as well as written records we have kept and compiled; they have blessed me in a way I had not anticipated.

My Husband's Nightmare

“I had a nightmare,” my husband remarked as we got ready for the day.

Asking what it was about, I learned that he dreamed that he and I and our son were on an ATV and the ATV suddenly lost power, probably the drive-train; and then the radiator started leaking- multiple pin-sized leaks sprouting from everywhere! I couldn’t suppress a giggle. I assured him I wasn’t laughing at his nightmare- it was just the kind scenario that would be a nightmare to him-- a mechanical failure. I asked where we were going on the ATV and then I understood his horror. We were on the way to stake conference (a regional church meeting) “and now my hands were all covered with black grease!” he explained. “And we were going to be late,” I added. “Exactly,” he agreed, now knowing I understood.

My husband HATES being late- and takes great pains to make sure he is always EARLY. He also has a bachelor’s degree in Mechanical Engineering and two Masters of Engineering degrees- one in Mechanical and the second in Electrical Engineering. He earned his living as a rocket scientist. For him, the world is defined through the principles of mathematics and physics. He is also, and has always been, the fixer of all broken things. My nightmares consist of spiders or how to protect our sleeping children from a crazed intruder in the night; but for him, a mechanical failure that will make him LATE to church- that’s a nightmare.

Again I am reminded how differently we as individuals ‘see’ the world. And, I am grateful for those differences in our marriage. I do get anxious about being late, but I NEVER have nightmares about mechanical failures-- probably because I never have to worry about fixing such things- I have total faith in knowing that he will fix or take care of such things. It lightens my burden immensely to not even give thought to whether the car will start when I need it or how to get the laundry done when the washer breaks. He maintains the car so it always starts, hears noises it or the washer make so that he anticipates what part is wearing out and fixes it BEFORE it becomes a crisis. I am left free to worry about ridding our house of spiders with the spider vacuum he gave me or checking all the locks twice before going to bed. What a blessing he is to me! Thank you, Heavenly Father.