• Evie Wilder

As I Ever Did.

To the bird who chose to fall…

I am not mad - not at you. I am mad at the tree for not telling you how beautiful your wings are; I am mad at the ground for not softening your landing; I am mad at the wind for not letting the forest know you were falling; I am mad at the universe. But you? I am not mad at you. I love you as I ever did.

You were tired of flying through the constant storms. You were tired of not believing your wings could hold you up anymore. Your weariness was unfathomable and I understand how you could believe it was unconquerable, or not worth conquering at all. My bird, you were wrong. But I love you as I ever did.

It breaks my heart how well thought-out your fall was. How sure you had to be for so long. How every detail was accounted for - except for the people counting the details. But we love you as we ever did.

I will struggle to learn how to carry you with me. I will struggle not to question what could have been done. I will struggle to find my faith again. I will struggle to let go of blame that has no place to land. I will struggle to breathe. I will struggle to cry. I will struggle to smile. I will struggle to be okay with being happy. I will struggle to know how I can help others, while I am still struggling. I will struggle. But I will love you as I ever did.

And to all the other birds who are thinking of clipping their wings - I ask you to keep singing, because somebody somewhere, I promise, is listening. I ask you to build a nest, and allow yourself to rest. You are a bird and you’re meant to fly. The sky and all it’s spectators would miss you in it.

But to my bird who chose to fall: I loved you then, I love you still, as I ever did, as I ever will.


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