Owl Eyes

It was a somber winter morning. I awoke to the rooster’s crow, something that happens every day. The events from yesterday morning came flooding back to me. As I lay there thinking of why I didn’t wake up, I became more restless. With a sharp inhale I began to get ready for the day. It was always cold during the winter months, but this morning seemed extra chilly. Snow covered the ground and it was difficult to walk in. It was just the three of us in our small, comfortable home. My father had died unexpectedly some years before and I was the only child. My grandmama came to live with us when my grandfather passed of old age nearly five years ago. As I pulled on my winter boots the rooster crowed again shaking me from my thoughts. Before I went out the door I peeked into the living room. Grandmama was resting in her old, woven chair in front of the fireplace. Her feet were propped up to keep her legs comfortable and a blanket was draped over them. My mother was close by with her hand on Grandmama’s knee. It looked as if she hadn’t slept all night tending to her and the fire. Neither one of them looked in my direction but I could see the faint rise in Grandmama’s chest. Tears began to pillow on my cheeks and I quietly escaped into the early morning.

Today was not a day to slack on my chores. The chickens needed to be let out into their run. It was truly beautiful how they emerged from their coop. Some would run, others would fly and for a brief moment they seemed to glide in slow motion. The color of their wings blended, creating a painting for that split second. I understood why Grandmama loved them so much. Thinking of her snapped me out of my day dream and I started back again. I turned my head towards our little barn. We had one milk cow that was named Honey. Even though her name is sweet she had a temper and milking her was my least favorite thing to do. I slowly walked over, rubbing my hands together to keep warm from the cold. When I reached to open the door, yesterdays image of finding Grandmama’s small frame on the dirty floor came into my mind. Trying not to cry I opened the barn door.

Inside was Honey, munching on her breakfast like nothing had happened. Before I stepped foot inside I heard a hoot of an owl. I glanced up and there she was on the main beam. Her figure was still shadowed but rays of the morning sun were gleaming on her. I could see the speckles of dust swirling around her. We looked into each others eyes for what seemed like forever. She did not move as I began again towards Honey. I reached out to Honey and she sniffed my hand. I looked back at the owl and she was still there, just watching me. Speaking softly I said, “It should of been me who got hurt, not Grandmama.” A tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. Honey peered up at me and licked the tear away. She had never shown any type of affection towards me before and yet I knew she was trying to apologize. I wrapped my arms around her neck, letting the tears flow downward.

We stayed linked together until there were no more tears left for me to shed. I looked up to see if the owl had stayed to witness my unraveling. To my shock she was still there. I felt peace and understanding while looking up at her. With a sigh I pulled away and started to milk Honey. This time felt different. I wasn’t struggling to calm her and for once we finally connected. Once my bucket was full of fresh milk I brought it to the barn door. Steam was coming off the top of it and I knew I had to get it inside the house soon. I turned one last time to see if the owl was still there and she was nowhere to be found. As I thought of the strange experience I trudged through the snow, making my way home.

Once inside I quietly put the fresh bucket of milk by the sink. I moved slowly to the door in the living room, half hiding my body out of shame. My mother was awake and was gazing upon her mothers face. She looked up at me. Her eyes were red from crying and my heart broke, knowing I was the cause of her pain. I wanted to disappear but I couldn’t move from the scene before me. Just then my Grandmama coughed and reached for my mother. Quickly my mother tore her eyes from me and moved towards her asking how she could help. My Grandmama could barely speak above a whisper. I could see her lips move but couldn’t understand. Once her lips stopped moving my mother stood up and walked towards me. Frozen in fear my mother hugged me and whispered, “She wants to speak to you.” My muscles tightened which made my mother hug me harder. She pulled away and continued, “Thank you for milking Honey.” She walked towards the kitchen to let Grandmama and I have some space.

I gazed upon my Grandmama in her favorite chair and realized this will be my last time seeing her in it. I slowly made my way towards her and her eyes never left mine. The same feeling came over me as when I had walked into the barn. I began to cry and quickly walked over to her. Kneeling down I laid my head on her and she place her hand on it. She gently rubbed her fragile hand over my hair like she had done so many times before. Before she could say anything to me I cried, “I am so sorry Grandmama. Please don’t leave us. I’m not ready to see you go too.” Without skipping a beat, as best she could, she replied, “Child, I will always be with you. I do not regret going out to milk Honey. I see how hard you and your mother work to provide for us. When you did not come out of your room I simply wanted to help and let you both rest.” She continued rubbing my head, playing with a lock of hair and said, “Know I will always be watching over our family. I love you.”

She stopped playing with my hair and I lifted up my head to gaze into her face. She had a pleasant smile but I could see how difficult it was for her to breath evenly. I called for my mother who was now the one hiding behind the door frame. Walking towards us she lowered herself and we held on to one another knowing that it was time for Grandmama to leave us. With one last breath she softly mumbled, “I love you.” Her eyes closed, and we watched as her chest lowered one last time. Together we held her and mourned silently. With tears in my eyes I looked up at her again to hold onto this memory forever. A soft hoot came from a window and I quickly turned towards the sound. Outside on a snowy branch was the owl that had watched me in the barn. Her eyes burrowed into my soul and I knew this is what Grandmama was talking about. This was how she was going to watch over us. A smile crept onto my tear stained face and the love from Grandmama poured into me, knowing everything was going to be alright.