MindSpinner

In the last decade of his life, my father began buying these for people he cared about, little bluebird figurines - Bluebirds of Happiness. They represented his best wishes for our lives  - his blessing. Years ago, my son adopted the one my father had given to me and kept it in his room. A couple of weeks ago, he told me that he’d given it some time back to the girl he’d fallen in love with (and since broken up with at last, once and for all). He had told her that, though he didn’t know why, he really loved it, and he wanted her to have it. Now, he said, he wished he had it back.

I told him where it had come from and what it meant. I had just enough time to track down the figurines on the Internet, order one, and give it to him as a gift last week.

Today, as of a few minutes ago, he’s gone. There was a quick hug for me, a lingering goodbye with his dogs. He hauled all three bags of stuff to his dad’s car and waved goodbye.

Just before he left, he stuffed a few items into the box I’d bought him for stationery, pens, and the like. I’d given him a small Moleskine notebook for his addresses, notes, and stamps. That went in. He could have 5 photographs, no larger than 3″ x 5.” Those went in, too. There were one or two of pictures of friends, I think, and the rest were ships representing his dreams for the future. He’d put in only one personal object - one I’m not sure they’ll let him have at the Academy - his little Bluebird of Happiness. I hope they let him keep it. If they don’t, I told him his dad could bring it back to me, and I’d keep it for him until he gets back.