Robin Dangerfield

“Beneath this snowy mantle cold and clean / The unborn grass lies waiting for its coat to turn to green / The snowbird sings the song he always sings / And speaks to me of flowers / That will bloom again in spring…” – Anne Murray

     

Ranting robin: Tweet Tweet @$%#!

When I pulled into my driveway last week and saw the first red-breasted robin of spring on my front lawn, it didn’t look like it was in the mood to sing a happy melody. No sweet chirping. Not even a peep. It just looked at me and cocked its head to the side as birds do. I could almost read its mind from its expression.
     “Seriously?” the robin thought. “It’s Spring. You know, Spring with a capital S. The season just before Summer.”
     The bird hopped down from the snow pile onto what was once my lawn. “Snow?” it asked quizzically, shaking ice off its tiny claw. It’s beak pecked the frozen grass. “What? Am I too early? I thought the early bird gets the worm. Not me. I get frostbite.”

     The robin looked up at my house. “Love your decorative flag that says Welcome Spring! Is that some kind of a joke? Maybe it’s not too late for your wife to return it to The Christmas Tree Shop and get her money back. Better yet, exchange it for one that says What Spring?”     The bird flitted onto my front porch step. “Nice Easter decorations! I’m surprised the holiday wasn’t cancelled due to the cold weather. So much for the annual Easter egg hunt.. It’s going to be hard to hide eggs under the ice, let alone find them.”

     “And another thing,” it said, “thanks for setting the clocks ahead so early this year. That really threw nature for a loop. Most of the wildlife around here thinks it’s still the middle of winter. I hear there are a couple of brown bears at the Stone Zoo who are still sleeping. They’re waiting for winter to end before they wake up – hopefully in August!”

     I grabbed my grocery bags from my car and took a step toward the bird thinking it would fly off as I approached. Instead, it hopped up a couple of more steps. It furrowed its brow at me and squinted its black beady eyes.

     “Do you know Spot Pond is still frozen?” it said. “The sign that says 'No Swimming' is going to say 'No Ice Skating' year round now” It hopped up another step and unfurled its wings. “What happened to Global Warming? I was just getting used to it. Even the Canada Geese are complaining about the cold. There are flocks of them staying in Florida permanently instead of migrating back to Massachusetts for the summer. 'Aren’t you going to miss the change of seasons?' I asked them. 'What change of seasons?' they said. Go figure.”

     The robin hopped up two more steps. “Look around. Not even a baby crocus in sight. They’re usually in full bloom by now. The tulip bulbs are locked up tighter than New England oysters. If we’re lucky they’ll be blooming by the Fourth of July, or as I like to call it Christmas in July around these parts.”

      “Great,” I said. “Not only do I have a disgruntled robin on my front porch, but it sounds like Rodney Dangerfield."

     The robin flew to the top step of my porch and continued its rant. “I know it’s been cold, but you could at least keep the bird feeder full . Oh wait, you can’t, because the birdseed is in the shed and the doors are still covered with a foot of icy snow. Thanks a lot, mister.”

     Now I was getting ruffled. “Look,” I said, “I don’t like this weather any more than you do. I was happy to see your bright red chest adding a splash of color to all this gray. You’re supposed to be a harbinger of Spring, not a disgruntled messenger of bad tidings.”

     “Ah,shaddup,” the robin said.

     I lunged forward and stamped my foot on the porch step to scare away the angry bird. It spread its wings and leaped into the sky, narrowly missing my head with its pointy black beak as it screeched by my ear.
     As it flew away, it turned its head and squawked, “You really need to paint your front porch!”

     Summer can’t come fast enough for me.

     

Waiting for Eliana

Don't you remember you told me you loved me, baby?

    I’m too young to be a grandfather, but I was ecstatic when I heard the news my son and his wife were expecting their first child. Finding out the baby was a girl added another level of excitement. I grew up with three brothers, no sisters. I have two sons, no daughters. So the news of a new Mullowney girl caused quite a buzz within the family.

A projected due date of February 14th fueled more family excitement. A baby on Valentine’s Day! How romantic! And that birthday date is shared by two close members of my family so it was extra special. However, Valentine’s Day 2015 came and went with no baby in sight. I had brunch with the parents-to-be on the morning of the due date. 

     “How are you feeling,” I asked.

    “Fine.”

    “Not you son, your wife,” I said.

    “I’m fine too,” she answered.

    “Hmmm,” I thought. Not even the slightest hint that a baby might arrive any time soon.

     The week dragged on. No baby. My daughter-in-law continued to work at her job in Natick, driving through blizzards, ice-storms and sub-zero temperatures. She wanted to work right up until she delivered the baby. Both sides of her concerned family listened to the traffic reports every morning to see if any babies were being delivered by State Police on the Mass Pike. 

     Each day after the due date, I was sure I was going to get a call from my son telling me the baby was coming. The anticipation was taking its toll on the grandparents-to-be. According to the doctors, everything was fine, it just wasn’t time yet. 

     As the next weekend approached, the doctors said they would admit my daughter-in-law into the Winchester Hospital to induce labor. The only problem was there were no beds available in the maternity ward. We were just going to have to wait. And wait. And wait.

I got a call Thursday night from my son who was on his way to the hospital with his wife. This must be it, I thought. No such luck. Go home. Not tonight. 

    Saturday arrived, along with a phone call from my son telling me his wife was admitted to the hospital. Everything looked good, now we just had to wait. And wait. And wait. I didn’t sleep Saturday night waiting for a phone call from the hospital. The telephone never rang. 

     Finally on Sunday night, we drove to the hospital to await the arrival of our new granddaughter. My wife and I haven’t had any baby experience since 1995. Times have changed. Extended families are now part of the birth experience. In the hospital room, my wife and I visited my son and daughter-in-law, along with her mother. We settled into our chairs and chatted in the hospital room, listening to the soothing sound of the baby’s heartbeat on the beeping monitor. This must be what it was like in days gone by, sitting around a straw hut, waiting for the birth of a new member of the tribe. After the harrowing experiences my wife had with her pregnancies, this peaceful night was a stress-free relief –  the complete opposite of what we experienced when our children were born. If it takes a village to raise a child, maybe it takes a village to birth a child too. I was happy to be part of the experience.

     At 11:30 pm, the delivery nurse entered the room and matter-of-factly stated, “Can the family please move to the waiting room. The baby will be arriving shortly.” After waiting nine months, plus the additional agonizing last week, a few more minutes didn’t seem to matter. 

     At 11:45 pm, my daughter-in-law’s mother was summoned to the delivery room to offer her support. This is it, I thought nervously. It won’t be long now.

     At 12:10 am my cellphone buzzed and I looked at the screen to see the first snapshot of my granddaughter. It was love at first sight. I showed the photo to my wife and said, “Congratulations, you’re a grandmother.” We headed back to the delivery room to meet our granddaughter in person.

     Eliana Rose Mullowney was born at exactly 12:00 am midnight Sunday night/Monday morning. Perfect and alert, eyes wide open, dark hair, blue eyes and a hint of a smile above her tiny dimpled chin. Holding her in my arms and gazing down at her beautiful face made it so worth the wait. Welcome to the world, Eliana Rose, who by any other name, would still be as sweet.