Remembering Hermes
It’s been a little over a year since we lost our parakeet, Hermes. We raised a glass to him on Sunday, and then, on Monday, we found ourselves web-surfing parrot videos. There are some very cute bird-dancing videos out there, with the little guys bobbing and weaving and strutting their stuff.
Of course, we are biased, but we think, ounce for ounce, Hermes’ brainpower could not be beat. He could say “Hermes,” “I love you” and “Good night, moon” — among other things. He knew every sound of human approach (the garage door opening, the toilet flushing) and would chirp hello accordingly. And his sneezes were a dead ringer for the human variety.
Hermes left a hole in our hearts, one we haven’t rushed to fill. But now that it’s been a year, we are thinking about birds again.
When I was at a wake last fall I noticed a cage of finches in the lobby of the funeral home. Is there a better reminder of the sweetness of life than a bunch of small birds chirping?