Jakob's Bird

It was 2016, on December twenty-fifth, eleven days after my little brother’s death. The first Christmas without him, and his absence was more than palpable.

If you’ve ever lost someone you probably remember being in a fog for quite some time. This phenomenon or occurrence, where you are walking around doing all the things that need to be done, but it doesn’t feel like it’s you who is doing it. Life in its entirety feels unreal, dreamlike. The only way I can describe the feeling is that it is as if you are in some kind of strange fog.

I don’t know how I faked it for my kids and yet somehow, I did.

I was walking out the back door when a little bird flew from the bushes at me and then into the house. Completely startling to say the least. I probably wouldn’t have given it another thought except he wouldn’t leave. We tried to help the little guy find his way back outside, but he didn’t want to go. He stayed there all night in our home. A finch with a little red head and chest.

Jakob’s favorite color was always red.

I don’t know what you believe and I’m not saying I think this bird was my brother. All I know is on that day my heart hurt in the most unimaginable way. A hurt that echoes still to this day. Somehow that little bird gave me a moment’s peace and put a smile on my face. I do believe God sent it to do those very things.

It is said that seeing a finch symbolizes a new phase in life that will bring happiness.

Though at times the thought happiness seemed impossible in a world where my brother no longer lives… Each time I see a bird whose color is red I think of Jakob and take a deep breath. Thanking God for the comfort only he can bring, like a warm embrace carried swiftly to me on that little bird’s wings.

It’s his birthday today. To say it doesn’t still hurt is something I cannot say. Grief being the final act of love, it’s a pain that will never stop, never completely fade. I can still remember holding him for the very first time. Only seven at the time, but I knew, without doubt, he was mine.

You see, siblings are woven intricately into our souls. This happens unexpectedly as we grow. Our memories and lives become gently entwined. Each of my brothers is never far from my mind, but there’s this ache, a hole. It’s forever torn, the spot where he’s supposed to go.