December 19, 2014 – Mom was bent at the waist with her head inside a big plastic bin when I wandered into the garage.
“Look at this, Hap!” she said smiling. “It’s a picture of you, Sawyer and Sparrow when you were little.”
Almost immediately, the moment turned bittersweet as we thought about my hatch-mate who passed two years earlier.
“I still miss Sparrow,” I said sadly. “She was one of my best friends.”
“I know she was,” said Mom, scooping me up for a hug. “I miss her, too. But I have to think that she and Clem, Verna, Little Pot Pie and Roxie and all the other hens we’ve lost over the years are watching over us from a much better place.”
“The stars were fascinating last night,” I revealed. “They were blinking in all sorts of rhythms. It reminded me of how Sparrow and I taught each other Morse Code when we were in the brooder. I watched them dance and flicker for several minutes and even thought I detected a coded message, though I didn’t know at the time who was sending it. Maybe it was my dearly departed sister hen reaching out to us.”
The thought that Sparrow had contacted me from the great beyond was very comforting.
“What was the message?” asked Mom curiously.
“Granted, my interpretation skills are rusty, but if I translated the code correctly, it went something like this: You’re fly is down. STOP. Look! A Pilgrim is eating a toad! STOP. I love ham. FULL STOP. Do you think it might have been Sparrow?” I asked.
Mom chuckled and looked at the picture again before putting it back in the bin for safekeeping. “You know Hap, I have no doubt that it was Sparrow sending you her love.”
That made my day. I took off to tell Sawyer about our conversation. I’m going to see if she wants to sit up with me tonight and send a love note back to Sparrow. I figured with a flashlight and a piece of tin foil, I can fill her in on everything she’s missed.