Glenda's love of animals was passed down to me a hundred fold. Well to be fair both my parents love of animals. In fact my father later told my mom after they were married when he seen her feeding the birds is when he fell in love with her. Before he knew her name, before he knew she was homeless. Glenda at the time was living with her newly divorced mom who was kicked out of the house she cooked and cleaned in for over thirty years. They moved from house to house helping out with chores until they were no longer needed. The woman, my maternal grandma, I never met yet, I have high hopes for the heavenly reunion. I once romanticized her as our Guardian Angel when I was just a young kid. That is why I tell people my name is Rave, and go by it, instead of my birth name which I like to believe is all hers. I don't romanticize family ghosts or people like I use to. In fact as I drag out the bird seed, nuts for the squirrels and pigeons, cookies for the Ravens, and cat food for the pigeons, I realize I haven't since my dad died. No daydreams, no night dreams of that lovely feeling of shy euphoria for anyone or anything. In place of those feelings was a cold burn. At least it wasn't numb. a cold fire beats no fire.
I heard the two pairs of Ravens squawk as I opened the door to the front porch. The gray wood was a pretty blueish gray that was reminiscent of a navy fleet color. "Patience is a good virtue to have." I tell the squirrel who is looking at me and holding her chest. She enjoys the Raven's cookies and sneaks one or two.
I smile. Cornelia, with her bushy tail and mousy face places the cookie ever so gently in her mouth and races down the street. She will be back. The biggest Raven on the powerline looks up at me silently and scolds me with his eyes. "Bravery is gift we give ourselves" I say cupping my hands to the big, beautiful black bird.
I don't have a spark of romance over this but that does not mean in this moment I don't feel joy. My feelings have always been a coin in my soul. both sides present at the same time. grief and giggles. anger and empathy. cold burn and hope. Ah that is the thing that I overdo maybe. Can we though ? have too much hope.
I was stuck in my thoughts when I turned around and heard a meow. Expecting it to be my cat neighbor, I said " Hi girl." and looked into the eyes of a new stray. A white and gray cat stood before me and rubbed up against my legs. Oh no. Glenda was going to say I was luring the strays here again. The pigeons love the cat food though and normally cat neighbor whom I call girl eats what is left. After the strays Tiger and Spooky you would think I would learn but no I don't learn well when it comes to animals. Oh my. I pet the new stray and raise up it's tail to see if it's a boy or girl, I can't tell. " Are you a boy or a girl?" I ask kindly. I felt someone watching us and turned around expecting Glenda to be giving me the you did it again didn't you look. The one reserved just for me.
Jessie not Glenda was at the door and looked through the window on it. Her eyes met the stray cat and a feeling I hadn't felt sprang up out of nowhere. The cold burn was getting warmer. Dreams started dreaming and just like that, magic was coursing in my heart again. It was time I guess. All things have there times to start again.
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Resurrection Romance
RomanceRomance long gets buried by the depths of grief, family illnesses, work , fear and so much more. Rave is a middle aged woman who lives with her mom Glenda and Aunt Jessie while creating different kinds of art to not only make a living but hopefully...