The Sessions

Is there a feeling in this world that you can say is more powerful than love? Many, if not most, people would probably argue that no, there is not. They would say that love is the greatest feeling known to man and nothing will ever come close. Nonetheless, there are people who completely disagree. Not because they don’t value love or haven’t experienced love, but because they believe there is an emotion even stronger. Loss. Everyone will experience some sort of loss or grief throughout their lives; it’s inevitable. However, some folks will be forced to face loss on a level that most people will only ever experience in their worst nightmares. And for Paul, that nightmare became all too real.

Paul and his younger brother, Daniel, grew up in a small town in South Carolina and had a pretty typical childhood for two kids growing up in the 90’s. They fought and argued as much as any brothers might, but at the end of the day they were best friends and they each knew it without ever having to say it. Although Paul still regrets never having said it out loud until it was too late. While driving home from work one night, Daniel was killed in a tragic accident. It will have been five years ago this July. Paul’s life was turned upside down. He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t even hardly speak to his parents. He had lost not just his only brother, but his best friend, his lifelong partner in crime. Paul didn’t know it was possible to experience sadness so great that you are in physical pain, which resonates throughout your entire body. He felt deeply and remotely sunken into a hole and that the hole was closing in around him, never to reopen.

Paul hardly spoke a word for an entire week after Daniel died. The funeral was the following Sunday and Paul tried his best to stay strong for their mother at the service. However, the second they arrived back at home he headed straight for the stairs to go up to his room and wasn’t even halfway up before the floodgate of tears opened up. Paul threw his jacket on the bed and sat down at his desk, immediately putting his head down, staring straight into the carpet. After sniffling back a load of whatever was dripping out of his nose, he looked up for a tissue and caught a glimpse of something through the window out of the corner of his eye. What looked like a barn owl was sitting on a branch of the big oak tree in the backyard. That was the tree the boys had spent hours climbing and making forts in as children. Paul sort of yelled “what?!” towards the owl and the feathered creature simply tilted its head to the side in response as if to say, “why you mad at me bro?”. Paul wipes his eyes, sniffles one more time and again asks the owl “what?” but in a much calmer tone. The owl continued sitting on the branch, never once breaking eye contact. Paul couldn’t help but feel intrigued because in over 20 years he had never seen an owl like this near his parent’s home. He and that owl stared at each other for what felt like hours and while it was hard to explain, Paul felt some strange sense of relief while staring into its eyes. It made him feel a little warm inside and just for a moment he didn’t feel that overwhelming sense of sadness. Hearing his mother calling, Paul started to head back downstairs, but briefly glanced back towards the window and saw that the owl was no longer on the branch. Half a smile formed across his face before closing the bedroom door behind him because somehow this silent interaction had allowed him to feel more at peace than he had all week.

Over the course of the next few months Paul saw that owl more times than he could count. Sometimes his occurrence seemed random, but he was always there when Paul had a rough day or was missing his brother the most. The owl would always be in the exact same spot, on the exact same branch and Paul couldn’t think of a time during those months where he looked up from his desk through tears and didn’t see the owl sitting there, warming him with its presence alone. These encounters, that Paul would call “sessions”, started out silent, but after a few weeks of seeing the owl, he began speaking to it. He would unload all his thoughts and feelings to this animal, both good and bad. He told the owl that it terrifies him the more time that passes since his brother’s death. Paul had always heard that it gets easier with time, but all he could think about was the more time that passes, the longer it’s been since he’s seen Daniel or heard his voice. The thought of being less and less sad actually made Paul more sad because he felt like the happier he was, the less he would remember or honor Daniel. He knew these thoughts would start to fade, but he couldn’t help that they were constantly floating around in his head. Opening up to this quiet being was somewhat therapeutic for Paul and it got to where he would look forward to these “sessions” because he was able to tell the owl things he would’ve only ever told his little brother. He would even say something like “see ya” when leaving his room, usually with at least half a smile across his face.

One day Paul’s mother was setting some laundry on his bed when Paul noticed the owl out the window just over his mother’s shoulder. He quickly got her attention and excitedly told her to turn around. By the time she had moved, the bird was gone, seemingly vanished while his mother claimed to never have seen a thing. Paul started to really think about something that he had continued pushing to the back of his mind. He simply couldn’t stop connecting this owl to his late brother somehow. Now he’s questioning himself about everything. “Is this Daniel trying to communicate with me? No, it can’t be. But is it? Am I just talking to a random bird? Is it even actually there? Am I going crazy?” After a few deep breaths, Paul realized he didn’t really care if he ever got the answers to any of those questions. He knew he wasn’t crazy, and that this owl had become a light in his life without ever actually doing anything other than existing outside of his window. It was another living creature that he could share his intimate thoughts and emotions with and receive no judgement in return. Paul didn’t need the owl to respond, he just needed it to listen. Its warm, embracing gaze held Paul tight and didn’t let go until he was done with what he needed to say. Part of him still just couldn’t stop thinking that this animal was somehow his brother, silently communicating through the form of a majestic creature. When looking into the owl’s eyes, Paul felt something… a feeling that he didn’t even know existed, something that he had never felt before, nor even knew how to begin describing.

Whether it was a good day or a bad day, Paul wanted to let his friend know about it. He always felt a little bit weird opening up to or conversating with a bird, but it was helpful for him in a way that he didn’t feel the need to explain to himself or anyone else. The bad days became fewer and fewer and as they did, he started seeing the owl less and less. The days Paul came home and saw an empty tree through the window would slightly disappoint him, but overall, he was feeling indescribably better. He started feeling like a normal, functioning person again and Paul knew that Daniel would want nothing more in this world than for him to be happy and to see him succeed. Paul never bothered trying to tell anybody else about the owl. Not because he was still questioning its existence (which he totally was), but because he didn’t feel the need to. Those “sessions” had helped him in ways that he had never imagined possible, and he was content with it being between just them. Let’s flash Forward a few more months and we are now nearing the one-year anniversary of Daniel’s death. As anyone could imagine, this type of anniversary is not one to celebrate and Paul couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks. While, it was constantly on his mind, he wasn’t going to let this impending date bring him down. He kept reminding himself of the progress he had made throughout the last twelve months and how proud Daniel would be of him. The day finally arrived, and Paul woke up feeling more down than he had been in a while, but he was determined not to start slipping back into the hole that he had worked so hard to escape from. Knowing what day it was, Paul’s friends took him out for beers and pizza to help keep his mind at ease. Afterwards, they went to visit Daniel and have a couple more beers at his grave site. His spot was at the very back corner of the cemetery, right next to a pond and this was Paul’s favorite spot in the world to watch the sunset with his little brother. He couldn’t ask for better friends and Paul even surprised himself when he went to bed that night with a big smile on his face.

Paul woke up the next morning to a sound that he hadn’t heard in years. He thought maybe his ears were deceiving him, but then he heard it again. Having seen them at his grandmother’s farm growing up he easily recognized the distinct screeching of a barn owl, but had never heard as much as a peep out of his feathered friend. He sprang out of bed and excitedly hurried over to the window before exclaiming: “I haven’t seen you in a while bud!”. There he was in his normal spot, as still and stoic as ever. As tears start to form Paul gazed into the owl’s eyes as he always did, but this time felt a strange sense of sadness and the inexplicable feeling that it would be the last time he would ever see his friend. Paul says to the owl, “I couldn’t have gotten through this past year without you… thank you for listening”, with tears now streaming down his cheeks. They weren’t tears of sadness, nor were they tears of joy; it was almost like they were tears of relief. “I think I can do this. I think I got this.” As he finished speaking, the owl leapt from his branch and flew over, landing on the window ledge right in front of Paul. His mouth hung halfway open, having never seen the owl move its wings before, much less fly around. Paul placed his hand on the window in front of the owl. He could feel the animal’s spiritual presence and it was absolutely nothing like anything Paul had ever felt before. “I got this. Thank you buddy... for everything.” Just then the owl spread its wings, the white undersides glistening like new fallen snow. It was the most beautiful thing Paul had ever witnessed. One last time, the two made direct eye contact, allowing Paul to experience that loving, warm feeling again. The owl nodded his head down slightly, almost as if to confirm everything Paul had been feeling to be true and then pushed off back from the window ledge. He watched with his hand still glued to the windowpane as the owl flew up and disappeared into the white clouds. Paul wiped the tears from his cheeks, but with a bright smile and a newfound sense of hope.

Was that really his brother, helping him transition through the most horrible time in Paul’s life or was it just a curious bird who enjoyed peering into this particular window? Paul knew he would never have an answer to this question, but he also knew that it didn’t matter. Whether or not he believed that it was his brother or a sign from his brother, the outcome was the same. The owl had been the light Paul needed to get through that difficult time. It was his friend, his therapist, and his guardian, all without having to speak a word.

It’s almost been five years now and Paul swears to himself that he will still sometimes catch a glimpse of that owl. Whether it’s walking his new dog, Barny, around at the park or riding his bike to work, he will still randomly see a white flash or blur for a split second out of the corner of his eye. By the time he turns his head, the blur is already gone. All Paul can do is turn back around with the biggest smile on his face, truly believing in his heart, that his little brother will always be with him.