That Old Owl

THAT OLD OWL

By MacIntyre

That damned barn owl was still there hanging in the rafters of this old stable. Looking at it made him laugh to a degree and it provided a soft joy to see it still there after all these years. When he saw it looking down at him, he was reminded of Deborah and how much she loved that scruffy old bird.

It had been there since they came to what they believed was paradise this old farm provided them at that time. They had come here almost seven years ago to finish out their years and have a place for family and friends to visit, to feel as comfortable as they found themselves to be on this quiet and serene old Victorian farm. This owl, evidently, had come with the place much in the same way as the stable, barn, and the ornate door with its stained glass that Deborah had loved so much.

He remembered how she would ‘hoot’ back at it each time she saw the flying beast perched in its favorite place and would always remark each and every time how beautiful it was, while laughing at her own silliness. He also, remembered how it would fly from perch to perch following her as she traversed the yard and buildings each day, seemingly with great enthusiasm. However, staring back at him now, he could swear it had a more forlorn look upon its face, as if it were sad in such ways he would never understand. He thought maybe it simply missed his wife, and maybe her passing was almost as hard for it as it was upon him when the better part of his life had left him alone on this farm that was so incredibly lonely without her.

Before, it had always been Robert and Deborah. Family and friends could hardly say one name without the other when conversing about them and yes, it was true, they were more than simply an attached couple. Spending almost fifty years together, he could not tell you a time when she did not enter his mind each day. He loved her without limit, with a passion very few men find in another person, and was not sure how he became so lucky as to know her. Well-traveled, he had seen the worst this world and human nature could offer, but the solace and peace he found with her made him understand a better side to that nature, and a better world for him to traverse. It was her nature. It was her gift.

So, they retired and came here. Nothing more to prove, no one to impress, no agenda or children at home to provide and protect. This was their heaven and the doors were always open

To provide even more joy for them, his son Charlie and daughter Barbara often came to the farm and their visits were always a joy especially when they brought the grand kids who livened up the place, accenting the smiling personality and delight of his wife. He brought back the memory of them all, in group, being introduced to Deborah’s owl with the grandchildren staring upward making the appropriate hooting noises back at the stoic bird. To watch her in this setting was all any man could ever want or need and he was complete.

Now, this had been their life for the past seven years. This was the best life could ever offer an aged couple and they knew what they were experiencing here and now was rare, and how fortunate they felt themselves to be. To have known each other, to know there was someone who understood the smallest corners of who you were, and to be provided the company of a love immeasurable, is what each man and woman dream about. This was their place and even though he was alone in it now, every inch of this place, for him, was Deborah. It’s gardens, furniture, windows, trees, the recliner she bought just for him, the pictures on the wall, and even that old bird, shouted out her name. That is, until last year when she suddenly left his world, with a cavern of loss that he could not measure. You may express yourself with dynamic words of loss without limit, speak of how eons pass before you unnoticed, but for Robert, he could but say, she was here with him, then she was gone with the softest of echoes.

These were the memories that caused him to turn way. “Oh well”, he said under his breath, and after a small sigh, walked away from the stable that housed the only remaining tenant since the horses were now long gone. He swore he could hear her owl chart out another loud ‘hoot’ as he left. Walking slowly away, it seemed a much longer trek now up to the house with no one there to greet him, and it was becoming more difficult to catch his breath. This is when he felt most alone, and this is when he felt the first pain in his chest. Struggling, he found a seat on the porch steps to rest for a moment, and though his eyes were not as sharp as they used to be, he swore he could see the owl perched upon the stable’s vent window as if following him with its stare. He then laughed out breathlessly, “Damn bird”.

Then, with another loud ‘hoot’, it spread its wings and flew to greet him on the railings of the porch staring at him almost eye to eye, and he laughed again. This time, he laughed heartily for the first time since Deborah’s funeral where family and friends spoke their condolences and sympathies, with him, sending those wonderful people away as gently as possible, so he could be alone.

Now, he was glad to have the company of this old owl and saw Deborah in its staring eyes and felt the love she had for it and his joy of seeing them interact. However, it also brought back the dark sadness of not having her with him anymore.

Forcing himself to his feet, and with a new pain in his arm, he pushed open the screen door and had the first hallucination of his life. There before him, was a bright light in the living room full of flowers from the garden. The stained glass door projected a shimmering light across to the kitchen and in its light stood his Deborah in that bright yellow sundress she always wore on special occasions. Smiling like she always did when he was acting silly or ridiculous, her voice reached him with her words, “You old fool.” With her laughter hanging in the air, her image began to fade along with his eyesight. Looking back toward the door, the last thing he remembered that day was the sound of that old owl and seeing the spread of its wings.

It is said that nothing ever dies. It is also said that we choose the next destination after this life has passed, and wouldn’t it be nice if this were true, especially for Robert and Deborah. However, these thoughts were not among those in Charlie’s mind upon finding his father in his work shed lying next to what appeared to be a bird house he had started building. However, in the days following, there was a feeling in the air about this old farm that something was different. A sort of fresh new feeling that seemed to touch all those that now wandered about the property while making preparations for the old man’s funeral. It was if this farm was speaking enough to say, that there really was no need for sadness or sorrow. That everything comes together in its right time and place, but there was no explanation of why almost everyone was cheerful and kind without much remorse and Charlie would have thought all of this as strange as any of us might should we have spoken this feeling aloud.

Shaking him from these thoughts and snapping him back to immediate tasks, was the tugging on his pant legs from his daughter who kept pulling him away and toward the stable where, for a reason he did not understand, everyone, family, friends and even the pastor were staring. His own arrival was met with a quick acknowledgement as eyes returned to the stable. What he saw brought a smile and deep laughter that was noticed by everyone, who maybe thought he had lost a marble or two. Perched in the window of the stable, were two old barn owls that seemed to be leaning so strongly into each other, they appeared to be sharing the same feathers.

He never explained this strange behavior and laughter, but his heart knew that everything was as it should be. This was acknowledged by his own wife, as he knew they stared at each other as once his mother and father had. Life can be good if we allow it to be, and they both knew where they would move next, where they belonged.