July 15, 2020
Umgi died yesterday. It was quick and sudden. Mom saw her the night before and noticed that Umgi wasn’t perched up with her sisters. Mom thought maybe they were bullying Umgi again. So mom made sure to take a look at her first thing in the morning. Umgi was still down in the corner where the girls usually lay their eggs. Mom pulled Umgi into her arms and looked at her. Umgi’s crest was dark blood red. And she didn’t have any energy. Mom thought: maybe egg bound? Warm bath with epsom salt? Mom walked toward the house, and as if Umgi had been waiting for mom to be with her, she gave a shudder and then died. Just like that. Umgi’s neck went limp and her eyes closed. Umgi had died.
Mom was shocked. She caressed the dead bird and started walking in the yard. As if giving Umgi a tour of the summer yard. Mom walked and cuddled with her bird. If you didn’t know, you would think they were quietly looking for Easter eggs. They walked and they walked. It turns out mom was looking for a nice quiet spot. Somewhere Umgi could rest, in peace. Mom found a spot. Next to a lilac bush. Mom brought the shovel over. Umgi still in her arms, mom started digging. But it wasn’t going well. Mom had to put Umgi down. But she didn’t want to. It felt like she was abandoning her. Mom tried again to dig with one arm, Umgi in the crook of her left arm. But it didn’t work. So mom gentle put down Umgi by the grass and went to work digging the hole. Roots, bugs, worms, and more roots. After a while the hole looked deep enough and big enough. Mom gently put Umgi into the hole and carefully replaced the earth. Mom put a marker on the site and started crying.
Today mom feels ill. Listless. Worn down. Sad. I hope it’s not COVID-19. I’m sure it’s just the mourning.
Not JUST mourning.
Yes, not JUST.
Even though I want to fix it: make mom smile, make her happy again, I will let mom be. We all need to mourn sometimes. In a quiet space. Alone. And that is not a bad thing.
I love my mom.
I will send her some kisses and hugs today.