Ever so gently she inquires, “Who did you have to rescue as a child?”
——————–
We ignore mom, angrily discouraging our efforts. “Put that bird back where you found it – its mother will take care of it!” My siblings and I were driven to rescue baby birds fallen from their nests, not yet capable of flight. An empty shoe box procured, filled lovingly with a makeshift nest of grass torn from the lawn. Bread soaked in milk and chopped worms held to the dying bird’s beak in a desperate bid for salvation.
We refused to acknowledge the inevitable end mom predicted as she observed bent necks, leaking blood, and broken wings. Surely this year we would succeed!
And one magical summer our patient recovered, took flight early one morning in my sister’s room. Based on wisdom gathered over the years, we collectively decreed the bird needed one more day to strengthen its wings before release. Myriad emotions passed through us – exhilaration and joy at our success, anticipation of a grand release, melancholy as we realized we would miss our patient, unspoken hope that our bird would come back and visit often as an ongoing expression of gratitude.
At last, the sun rose on release day and we gathered in my sister’s room, carefully shutting her bedroom door lest the bird fly out into the living area. We needn’t have worried. Sometime overnight, our dear patient quietly succumbed to its internal injuries – hidden wounds we could neither see nor heal.
——————–
She calls me back to the present, inquires again, “Who was it you had to rescue?”
“No one. I didn’t have to rescue anyone. I wanted someone to rescue me. All my rescue attempts through the years carry an echo of that unspoken hope – if I rescue you, surely you will be grateful enough to come back and rescue me.”
Although Beth grieved the loss of her latest failed rescue attempt, she did not expect the angry accusations of abandonment, followed by Liz stepping in with the full force of her pent up fury in response.
“How dare you accuse me of abandonment when it was you who evicted me? How dare you blame me for rescuing myself after you failed so miserably at giving a simple answer to the most important need I’ve ever communicated! Fuck You for evicting me and Fuck You for trying to negotiate my non-negotiable need!”
A friend’s random comment about childish behavior brings forth the Story Teller and Meaning Giver: “Dear One, this is deep, deep grief. Look back and see this Grief woven into the tapestry of your life. Look back and see the people you simultaneously tried to rescue and looked to for rescue.
“Look carefully at your tapestry and trace your Grief’s pathway to this lesson: The only person you are responsible to save is yourself.
“Dear One, embody this hard-earned wisdom with the name I now give you.”
And as I run by the river, I hear a name whispered on the wind, and I accept her with delight! I will not always embody her as I do in this place, at this moment. I instinctively sense her bigger purpose, to serve as a frequent visitor returning often to express her gratitude for the only successful rescue I must ever achieve – the freedom I offer myself.
Biz Has a Blog! 