I began stringing lights on the fence the day after Halloween as usual and continued to do as much as I could by myself. There was so much to do to get everything up and running, but we'd finish it up on Thanksgiving, so I had thought. It was finally the long weekend after Thanksgiving. We were hustling and bustling outside to get the Christmas light show up. This would probably be our last weekend of decent temps to be outside and I kept saying that if we didn't get a move on, we'd end up back out here next weekend freezing to death. We always get the neighborhood excited when they see us out there working; they beep as they go by and wave and usually hollar at us to hurry up. We play Christmas music as we work and I bring out platters of junk food and leave a cooler of drinks on the porch. Its fun. Usually. But its not about us anymore; its all about lighting up the sky for Michael and putting a smile on the faces of anyone passing by that needs one.
Everything went wrong that weekend; a lot of the lights weren't working, bulbs in the large lighted figures were shot and we were blowing fuses like crazy. Things were not staked down well and were tipping over all week long and I ran out of stakes and replacement bulbs. It was a mess and nothing was going right. I had to go to town during the week to get more supplies and gear up for another go round. We found ourselves right back out that following weekend doing damage control and getting soaking wet in the rain, freezing, trying to finish up. I was getting pretty upset by that time because I kept wanting to add more and more lights and the Hus kept saying we can't handle any more. I kept telling Dan and the Hus that we had to keep adding more and more lights so that Michael would see them easily and come to us. They played along with me, humoring me I suppose, and I got to add a few more strands. That night we lit it up and everything was working including the syncronized music blasting. Here came the carloads and trucks from the neighborhood. It was nice. The freezing rain came down on and off that night.
No stars out and the temps were dropping fast. I made a late barn check around 11:00 PM and then I went out front in the middle of the whole light thing and began to call for Michael to come. "Ok Michael, here's your lights, come home!" Yes I talk out loud to him all the time.
I went to bed and cracked my bedroom window open about 2 inches. I don't care if its below freezing, I always do that. I over slept and woke up the next morning to a whopping 20 degrees and there was a little bird was on my window sill. I think it was a sparrow. He was black with a reddish chest. What are the chances of a bird doing that and where on earth did he come from? There are no birds here anymore; haven't seen not one for quite a while. Next thing I know, he's in the bedroom. He flew around just a little bit and landed on my shelf where I keep pictures of Michael, his diploma and Tracey, her ball and collar. I opened the window really wide so he could leave, left the room and shut the door behind me so he wouldn't get out to the rest of the house. Called the Hus and told him "There's a sparrow in the bedroom, isn't that odd?" He says there haven't been any birds around for weeks. Yes, that was odd.
I didn't think anymore of it really at that time. I checked the room in a few minutes and he left. Got dressed and went out to the barn to feed, turned on the radio and it was playing "Someone is missing at Christmas."
As I went down the isle feeding, there was the bird sitting on the stall divider of "Michael's Noelle." It sure looked like the same bird. The next song on the radio was "Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas" a song I used to sing to the boys as babies all the time.
I pretty much gave up on reading things into other things just to pacify myself. Maybe this was all a sign from Michael and maybe it wasn't. I'll never know but I'd like to think that maybe, just this once, he came home for Christmas.
Everything went wrong that weekend; a lot of the lights weren't working, bulbs in the large lighted figures were shot and we were blowing fuses like crazy. Things were not staked down well and were tipping over all week long and I ran out of stakes and replacement bulbs. It was a mess and nothing was going right. I had to go to town during the week to get more supplies and gear up for another go round. We found ourselves right back out that following weekend doing damage control and getting soaking wet in the rain, freezing, trying to finish up. I was getting pretty upset by that time because I kept wanting to add more and more lights and the Hus kept saying we can't handle any more. I kept telling Dan and the Hus that we had to keep adding more and more lights so that Michael would see them easily and come to us. They played along with me, humoring me I suppose, and I got to add a few more strands. That night we lit it up and everything was working including the syncronized music blasting. Here came the carloads and trucks from the neighborhood. It was nice. The freezing rain came down on and off that night.
No stars out and the temps were dropping fast. I made a late barn check around 11:00 PM and then I went out front in the middle of the whole light thing and began to call for Michael to come. "Ok Michael, here's your lights, come home!" Yes I talk out loud to him all the time.
I went to bed and cracked my bedroom window open about 2 inches. I don't care if its below freezing, I always do that. I over slept and woke up the next morning to a whopping 20 degrees and there was a little bird was on my window sill. I think it was a sparrow. He was black with a reddish chest. What are the chances of a bird doing that and where on earth did he come from? There are no birds here anymore; haven't seen not one for quite a while. Next thing I know, he's in the bedroom. He flew around just a little bit and landed on my shelf where I keep pictures of Michael, his diploma and Tracey, her ball and collar. I opened the window really wide so he could leave, left the room and shut the door behind me so he wouldn't get out to the rest of the house. Called the Hus and told him "There's a sparrow in the bedroom, isn't that odd?" He says there haven't been any birds around for weeks. Yes, that was odd.
I didn't think anymore of it really at that time. I checked the room in a few minutes and he left. Got dressed and went out to the barn to feed, turned on the radio and it was playing "Someone is missing at Christmas."
As I went down the isle feeding, there was the bird sitting on the stall divider of "Michael's Noelle." It sure looked like the same bird. The next song on the radio was "Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas" a song I used to sing to the boys as babies all the time.
I pretty much gave up on reading things into other things just to pacify myself. Maybe this was all a sign from Michael and maybe it wasn't. I'll never know but I'd like to think that maybe, just this once, he came home for Christmas.
