I Love Bringing My Spiritual Ordainment to Other Practices Beyond Marriage. I've Become Quite the Chaplain for Aviary Needs, Too

I wasn't home two minutes before I got another text from Pam that a bird died on her patio. They run into her window and plop to the ground. We've become quite profound in our ceremonies, too, and we named this one Wrendolyn Brooks (because as we prayed and sang hymns, I launched her into the woods by Pam's condo in the Brooks that lead to the Long Island Sound). 

Pam secured a ceremonial spoon for the scooping and catapult- launch for Wrendolyn's last flight. She was a good bird who never over ate her share of insects and who built an admirable nest for all who knew her. She did her best to miss cars in her mid-air excretions, and provided the best music she knew how to make the world a much more cheerful place.

I might call the untimely death of Wrendolyn symbolic, but I was also summoned to jury duty again on January 2nd, when I need to be teaching the winter session I was lured into taking on again. That, too me, is beyond symbolic of the life I live.

Fly away, bird. Well, land softly on your feathered wings that were freshly coating your stiff body when I found you outside Pam's patio door.

Bless this animal and all beautiful creatures who are simply trying to live their best lives while they have it. 

We played Rockin' Robin by Elton John at the after party, too. I will be communing with all the birds that knew her over the next several hours. If you'd like to Venmo me money in memory of Wrendolyn Brooks (Phew. I hope she is a wren), please don't be shy about reaching out.