This is a true story. I've been working on it since June 2001 A Gathering of Crows
I believe that future events cast a shadow backward that can be seen or felt by the sensitive ones in our midst; and to those that listen, spirit speaks in an ancient language of symbol and meaning. The death of my father was such an event for me.
This, his story, begins with a crow.
One Saturday morning in early May 2001, as I was driving to visit my Mom and Dad, I noticed a single crow dip low and fly from left to right in front of my car. I didn’t think too much about it until a few minutes later another crow did the same thing, and then another and another. During the whole hour’s drive the crows kept coming. Something was obviously trying to get my attention. I said, “OK, so what does this mean?” And I thought, “They fly alone, but still they soar”. It was in that moment that I knew one of my parent’s was going to die. After that day, the crows were everywhere that I went. I started joking with my friends that I had become a crow magnet.
The following Saturday morning, I was staring out the window looking at the rain and the woods behind our house. As I stood there, a crow flew out of the trees straight towards me. I thought it was going to hit the window, but at the last possible moment he flared out his wings and rose up out of sight. That moment, that he was right there wings expanded, seemed to happen in slow motion. I could see every detail vividly.
A friend told me about a book she’d read that talked about the meanings of animals that show up in your life. It said that if you discover that birds are your totems you will be gifted with feathers. That night I dreamed that someone gave me a present. When I opened the box, there was a feather inside. I was so shocked that I quickly looked up to see who had given it to me and instead woke up. I didn’t see who it was, but I had the impression that it was a woman in a long, white calfskin dress. I remember thinking “I guess that means that birds are my totems now”. Suddenly it seemed that I was in conversation with something unknown. But how to interpret this strange new language remained the question.
Feathers started appearing by my car. Most of them belonged to the Canadian Geese that were abundant where I worked. I would pick them up and stick them under the sun visor in my car. I had quite a collection going within just a few days.
While I was distracted by the birds and feathers, my father started getting visits from his brother who had passed away in the early 90’s. Dad said Melvin would appear in the corner of his bedroom and then disappear again. He said it made him feel good, like someone was looking out for him. He also started dreaming about him. They would play cards like they used to when they were younger and Dad said he just wanted to make his brother mad by beating him at cards one more time. After he told us that, I told my Mother that Dad was getting ready to leave and we had to be willing to let him go.
On May 30th I left work at 6:00 p.m. I would park at the back of the building near a dumpster and a small tree. Some movement in the tree caught my eye and I looked to see two large crows sitting on the lowest branch. Even though I was less than 25 feet from them, my appearance didn’t frighten them away. Something else moved and then I saw that the entire tree was full of pairs of large crows, all silent. There must have been 30 or more crows in that one small tree. I blinked my eyes thinking that surely this was some trick of the imagination, but they remained. It was eerie. The black of their bodies seemed to shimmer, but the illusion held. I got into my car and backed it out and around closer to the tree. I was now about five feet away. I rolled down the window. They didn’t make a sound, they didn’t fly away. It seemed as if they were there for me. It was a moment full of portent. As I drove away I kept looking back in the rear-view mirror. For as long as I could see that tree, they were there. I have never before or since seen any crows in that tree.
The next afternoon, May 31st, Dad’s breathing became so labored that he finally agreed to go to the hospital. My sister-in-law called 911. They called me at work. I immediately called my friend Carolyn. We decided that we would quickly seclude ourselves in our separate buildings and join in meditation to help my father cross. I felt my mind reach out for hers and his, and in that space I saw a red cord break. The ends were many stranded like a fiber optic cable and they sparkled. Then I saw a hand slowly waving goodbye to me. I felt that my Dad passed in that moment, and perhaps in a way he did.
I got to the hospital an hour later and Mom and my brother met me in the hall. Mom said “Daddy’s gone”. He was still breathing, his eyes were open, but he was unconscious. Thus began the death vigil. He had gone into the ambulance conscious, but when they’d administered oxygen he’d had a stroke. He never woke again. I think his soul slipped away while Carolyn and I held the space for him. I closed his eyes so that they wouldn’t dry out. I didn’t want him to have any discomfort at the last.
The emergency room doctor offered to intubate him, but we declined. He asked if Dad had a Living Will. My brothers and I turned towards the doctor and I said “we are his living will”.
I spent the last full night of my Father’s life alone in the hospital with him. The curtain was pulled down the center of the room to give us privacy. The man in the next bed kept calling out for someone to help him; he thought he’d fallen and that his foot was stuck in something. I kept quiet so as not to attract his attention. Daddy was beyond talking, but still I whispered into his ear that it was all right to go. I was standing watch so that no unwanted things were done to what was still here of him. It was clear that he was beyond their touch already, beyond my touch.
On his last day the family gathered at his bedside. His strong heart beat on. The inability to fully exhale brought on by his muscular dystrophy was slowly raising the level of carbon dioxide in his blood stream. No miracle recovery could be hoped for. I saw a large crow swoop down to the level of his window and then slowly turn and fly away.
By the evening of June 1st, I’d been up for close to 48 hours. It became clear to me that my Father did not want me to be there when he died so I left. My husband drove me home and I had no sooner sat down on my bed to go to sleep when my brother called to tell me that Dad had passed. He died about 10:00 p.m.
You would think that perhaps the crows would return to just being crows with his passing but, there is one more chapter to this story.
After the funeral, my husband and I drove to our condo in Florida. All along the route, whenever we would pull off the interstate a crow would be sitting along the road on the ramp. When we arrived at our building in Cape Canaveral, I saw that there was a crow’s nest built in attached lettering on the side of the building. I had never seen a crow there before at all; but they were on the beach picking at the trash cans too. They seemed to be everywhere. I went down to the pool on our second morning there. I was by myself just enjoying the water. I noticed a few little feathers floating so I carefully picked them out of the pool and laid them on the side. After about 4 of these, I laughed and said out loud “Thanks for the feathers, but what I really want is a big black crow feather.” I then laughed and went on with my swim. After about 30 minutes, I decided to get out of the pool. I went to where I had left my towel and sandals, and lying, as if carefully placed between my two shoes, was a pristine, large, black crow feather. This was as close to a mystical experience as I have ever had. I knew the feather was from my Father. There had been no one else in the pool area while I was there. The feather had not been there when I placed my shoes by the chair. I could only smile as the tears ran down my face. I still have that feather.
.JPG)