Flower On The Sidewalk

Birds

Today I looked through my picture album. I saw pictures of birds and the ocean and I saw pictures of the sick kids at the hospital. As I looked through the album, each picture brought up a memory. The picture of the birds though, I took it when I was eight. I was at the park with my grandpa, this was before he died and before I was diagnosed, and I had his camera around my neck.

I held his hand as I jumped on the slippery tires stuck in the ground for kids to play on. I begged my grandpa for hours to take me to the park, even though it was cloudy and had been raining on and off.

There were lots of birds in the sky that day. Flying around aimlessly. Landing on the swings or pooping on the benches, but they never left. I watched them for a long time, and I lost track of time. Grandpa didn't even seem bothered, he just picked me up and placed me on his shoulders.

I decided to take pictures of all the birds while they each did different things. Grandpa later on told me I had a talent in catching moments, and that moment was when I decided I wanted to be a photographer. I won't ever forget that memory. It's a calming memory because it was just the two of us in the middle of the park on a gloomy day. Most people stayed inside and wasted the day being depressed, but we didn't. We went outside and had fun.

I still remember the warm peaceful feeling I had in my chest. I was happy. I was content. I was having a perfect eight year old moment, and I felt like one with the birds.

Grandpa died two months later.

When I die I want to be reborn as a bird.