I saw Shirley today.

By bobby burcham


“Harold.” She always has to get my attention first.
“Yes Loren”, I try not to sound impatient.
“I saw Shirley today.”
“You did?” I know what she is talking about.
“I think she followed me up here. It looked just like her.”
There is silence as she goes to the window and looks out where she saw Shirley. I’m reading a magazine, trying not to think or feel.
“I really believe she missed me when I moved and she followed me up here, don’t you?” I swallow and honestly try to think of something positive to say. I finally agree, “I’m sure she did.”
“At least it looks just like her, she was brown and had white specks under her breast.” Loren is still looking out the window in the direction of the hedges that surround the nursing home.
“I just know it was Shirley. I moved away. It took her a long time to find me, but she finally found me.“ She pauses for a moment. “I miss her too. I miss all of my little friends. I had so many little friends. I fed them every day. Didn’t I Harold?”
It slips out before I think, “Yes, that’s the one thing you never forgot to do.”
I regret saying it and hope she didn’t hear or understand. I always hear every word she says, and even the ones she doesn’t say. She never says them all. When she wants something she always makes a riddle out of it, a ceremony of hints. I’ve always had to guess what she really means and what she really wants.
I can’t tell her that I am also afraid I will need to be in here soon. I can’t tell this other part of me that I don’t want her to be here either. I can’t tell a child these things, even if the child is nearly seventy.
Finally I can’t use the magazine to hide from my responsibilities any longer. I look up at her smiling out the window and think about when we met and the 50 good years we’ve had together. She is still very beautiful to me.
I think, ‘just to look at her and even to listen to her talk it is hard to believe that she has to be in a place like this.’
She is still standing looking dreamingly out the window smiling, and I know that she is thinking about the time before she came to the nursing home. But when she turns to look I can tell there is something wrong with her expression. She isn’t doing so well holding back her emotions. And there is a question in her eyes.
I say, “We could get you a bird feeder, would you like that? And put it right out side your window. I am sure they wouldn’t mind.”
Her gentle smile tells me I guessed correctly. Her face says it all. Happy tears began to roll down her cheek. I get up and walk toward her.
“I will feed them every day, Harold, even when it snows.”
“Yes, you always did. You never failed.” I feel my eyes burning. I can’t let her see me wipe the tears away, so I hold her tightly.