A Special Blue Bird

Late last Fall, we kept vigil at Evelyn’s bedside.  I don’t remember stars that long dark night when Evelyn breathed her last.  I stroked her grey hair and held her hand while hovered over the hospital bed in her living room at the little house next to the Yellowstone river.  A few days earlier, she asked me to draw  a blue bird for her gravestone.  Evelyn loved birds. All birds.  The only thing in this world she loved more than birds was her family, her children, grandchildren and friends.  She was a sweet little dear who blue birdadopted me into her wide-armed fold.  A week or two later I was wheeled into surgery followed by a winter of healing.  I had not gotten into the space/place to draw the bird until a few weeks ago when the sun shown and the birds chirped spring greetings.  I brewed a cup of tea, lit a candle, and sat at a table in front of a window which overlooks the valley where Evelyn was born, raised a family, and where she is now buried.  The afternoon passed quickly while I drew in honor of a precious being who touched my life.  Evelyn was a gentle soul. 
The bird will be colored and the stone placed by Memorial Day.