A Message for Jim, pen and ink, November 2007, doodle © 2007 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.
The first time it landed on Jim, he said he thought it was his brother David.
David was 15 months younger than Jim. His little buddy, his pal. David died of leukemia when Jim was seven.
No one talked about David’s death then, and Jim doesn’t talk much about it now. But if you meet Jim, you’ll notice a sadness in him. Like when he laughs, he never really gives it all up to laughing.
Yet he gives it up to the hummingbirds.
The first time is 1997. He sits on the front porch while Dee and a friend splash in the wading pool. A hummingbird zips in and around the feeders above Jim’s head, lands on a low branch in the giant catalpa. Jim stands, walks to the tree, reaches his arm toward the bird.
“It flew to my finger, just like that!” He is going on about it over the phone. “Dee held out her finger, too, and the hummingbird hopped from me to her.” He is almost out of breath. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened since Dee said her first words.
I didn’t believe him. Dee told me all about it when I got home from work, but still, I couldn’t see it really happening. If you’ve ever seen a hummingbird stop beating its wings and land in a tree, you’ll know what I mean. You want to shake your head. The idea of those tiny wings not flitting their 80 beats a second — there’s something unnatural about it.
Earilier that same year, Jim found a hummingbird, lifeless, on the floor of his workshop. He figured it got overheated in the skylight trying to get out. He picked up the bird, ran to the house and yelled for me to bring sugar water, quick, in a bowl. He held the tiny limp body cupped in his hands while I held the bowl. He dipped the bird’s beak into the water. “Drink, little bird,” he said in a little bird voice.
After a few dips in the sugar water, the bird’s beak opened then closed, opened then closed. Jim opened his hand. The bird sat, looked around, launched. Whirrrrrrr, into the sky.
“I’m pretty sure it was the same bird,” Jim is telling me the day by the wading pool. “I see,” I say, although I don’t really.
One Saturday the next summer, the hummingbirds fly around our yard like neutron dive bombers. Jim is watering the Spanish Broom; I’m weeding around the Butterfly Bush. A green hummingbird lands on a prickly pear cactus flowering brilliant pink-purple. Jim drops the hose, walks to the cactus, extends his arm. Plop, the hummingbird hops from the plant to Jim. He turns to me, smiles.
My mouth is open.
There are three more hummingbird messengers. Once a hummingbird comes to Jim after landing on the young cottonwood we’ve planted. Another time the hummingbirds hover around a feeder in the lotus before one lands on Jim. The last time is this spring, ten years after the first instance. We are preparing to move.
Jim has his head in the engine of the ’57 Chevy Apache; he is trying to start the thing, which has been dead for a year, so he can drive it to the new place. A hummingbird lands on the hook where the hood latches. Jim looks up, puts out his finger. The hummingbird hops onto him.
By now this has become almost ordinary, yet I still look on as if I’m witnessing a miracle. Even more extraordinary, Jim moves his hand toward me, I put out my finger and the bird hops onto me. It is tiny, so tiny I can barely feel its weight. I feel its tremble, or maybe that’s mine. Jim says the bird has come to say good-bye.
One day last May shortly after we moved, Jim called me on my cell, excited.
“They’re talking about hummingbirds on Native America Calling,” he said. “Should I call?”
Native America Calling is a radio talk show where listeners call in to talk about issues and themes pertinent to American Indians. That day the theme was the importance of the hummingbird to Native cultures.
“Call,” I urged. I had just pulled into work, had a meeting in 20 minutes.
I stayed in my car, tuned in to the public radio station. The host had a panel that day — a well-known artist and a tribal elder. I listened to one caller, then another. I listened as long as I could; Jim didn’t come on.
Later that day, my phone rang. Jim. He told me they eventually put him on the radio. He told them about the many instances where a hummingbird, or several hummingbirds, landed on him. The host asked if he was Native. “No,” Jim told him, “but I was hoping you could help me understand, what is the meaning of these visits?”
The host asked the panelists what they thought. Both said it seemed extraordinary, nothing either one had ever seen. Jim waited. The host told him something silly, like, “They must think you’re sweet.”
“They didn’t believe me,” Jim said to me on the phone, dejected.
“I know,” I told him, “it’s hard to believe if you don’t see it for yourself.”
That story made me ball like a baby.
I am a believer. I believe many things happen where there is no reasonable answer found. I believe in magic…here on earth…because I have both witnessed it and lived through it.
Jim must be a very worthy man for such a miracle and it is so wonderful that he can share it with you. Never doubt that it could be his Brother and I will tell you why.
yb, I think you understand how very close to my Father I was. When he was dying, he knew I would take it very badly. I asked him, like all the stories go…to leave me something when he made it. I thought about it and said…”Make it a feather and put it on the front porch of your house”. We laughed about it. He died 3 days later.
When my sister’s and I came home from picking up his ashes, we were in a state of shock. My oldest sister Cindy got out of the car first… holding his flag in it’s little triangular box. My middle sister Julie then got out holding his ashes. I stayed in the car for a moment, reflecting on what we had just been through and then I heard a scream. I ran out of the car, my heart beating fast… and saw the oldest pointing to the porch. She was holding her mouth.
Then I saw it…a single, silver colored feather…perfect…sitting on the porch… and I dropped to my knees.
That feather probably saved my life… for it gave me hope…and it gave me back my laughter.
People can say whatever they want. It will never change what I saw nor what I now know.
Tell Jim that the sadness that lives in him is the badge he wears for having loved someone so much and then had to let them go. The hummingbird is the miracle he gets to be a part of…for believing in magic…without having any doubts.
I have a perfect vision of that hummingbird landing on him inside my brain and it is a beautiful, magical thing. Give him a hug from me…and tell him “From one believer to another”.
H
LikeLike
I, too, am a believer, and I am very moved by both the original message and the comment.
“Love is reflected in love,” and Love knows no boundaries, not in this world or beyond what we can see. We are blessed when we have an open mind, a kind heart and a generous spirit, for then we are given the privilege to experience the miracles, large and small, that occur throughout all time and space.
Keep on believing!
LikeLike
H, wow, now I was the one crying while I read your story of your dad sending that sign. He must have done it because he knew how devastated you were, how much you needed something to tell you that you had to not only carry on but to carry on with optimism and joy.
I will give him your hug and your message. Thanks.
Marylin, your comment made me realize how much this post is about Love. I hadn’t added that category but I’m going to now. Thank you, too, for commenting. It’s wonderful to hear from other believers.
LikeLike
H, an amazing account of your father and the feather. I love feathers. They have always been magical for me. And I totally believe in the gift of your father’s feather from the great beyond. Very moving.
yb, I read your post this morning and haven’t had time to comment until now. I was out shoveling snow. We are in the middle of our first blizzard! Heaven for me. But I’ve already shoveled the deck off twice and it’s still coming down like rain. So beautiful. Once this covers the ground, it will probably stick until Christmas.
What a great post and wonderful image. I love when you post your drawings. You first told me about Jim and the hummingbirds when I was visiting with you last July. One hit the sliding doors that very day and was stunned (am I recalling correctly?). When Jim came out to check on it, it recovered and flew away. Just like that.
When you first told me of these stories, I immediately thought of Jamie Sams’ and David Carson’s Medicine Cards. Liz and I pull them once in a while to bring us closer to our totem animals/birds. Each animal/bird has its own strong qualities and gifts. The totems bring out the same traits inside us and teach us how to make the best use of them in our lives.
One of Liz’s is frogs. She sees them everywhere. All different kinds, all over the yard, on her car, on the side of the house. I never see them at all until she points them out. My strongest ones are lynx and hawk. Hawks I see all the time. Lynx appears only at openings like Solstice or times when the veils are thinner.
Hummingbird is Joy. Maybe Hummingbird is one of Jim’s totems. Here are some of the key points from the Medicine Cards:
Thought you might find it interesting. Ya’ll are right – opening the heart chakra to love and joy.
LikeLike
Is WOW enough to say?
LikeLike
(smile) Yes, that’s enough.
How wonderful, QM, to learn about The Hummingbird. Thank you for sharing that. I’ll read it to Jim when he comes back from the grocery store.
The hummingbirds are joyful and beautiful. And strong. They fly such great distances each year, sometimes across oceans with no place to stop. They have to fly, fly, fly. They are amazing creatures.
Yes, you are recalling the hummingbird “crash” correctly. It hit the window, fell, and recovered. That was so weird.
LikeLike
BTW, like Liz, I find little toads everywhere. Jim says I have an eagle eye, because for as long as he’s known me, I’ve been able to spot toads. Little tiny ones, in the most unexpected places. Big ones, too, but especially the babies.
One time years and years ago when I was living in Santa Fe, a mysterious dark, good-looking guy that I used to hang out with — his name was Roque — told me my totem animal was the lizard. Hmmm, I wonder if he was right. If you ask me, I think it’s a puma mountain lion, not a lizard.
LikeLike
. YB, what a great post! I also cried while reading this account of Jim & the hummingbirds. I also am a true believer of miracles such as what he & H experienced. My particular miracle came in a different form, however I believe what happened to me was meant to be. My dads father passed when I was just 17 years old. My grandmother passed several years later. After the passing of my grandmother a decision was made by the children to hold an estate sale. Well, both of my grandparents were avid antique collectors. This was a huge auction. It took from dawn to dusk to auction off their belongings. I had never been to an auction before but knew I wanted to purchase some items that were special to me. Well needless to say that I soon realized that I there was no way I could compete with the masses of antique dealers who attended this sale. After giving up on many of the items due to the dollar amounts that they were going for ,I was beginning to think that I was doomed to go home with nothing. Not one memory. To make a long story short, one of the auctioneers finally brought out one of my grandmothers favorite prints. This print was calling out to me. It is a beautiful print titled “In the garden”. As my grandmothers favorite pass time was her gardening I just knew I had to have it. I bid & lo & behold I was the lone bidder. I took the print home & decided to clean it up. I removed the frame & underneath the print was my grandmothers baptism certificate in mint condition. I was meant to have this print! And it only got better when I opened a package of personal items I was given that had been earmarked for me. Inside the box was my grandfathers baptismal certificate! They will both now stay within our familyfoe generations to come. D
LikeLike
I’m all teary-eyed. Wonderful story, wonderfully told.
I’m a believer, too.
LikeLike
Holy moly, alittleditty, that is just amazing. OMG, I think you should print that story. I can visualize the sinking feeling that must have come over you as you saw item after item get bid away by the dealers. And then the one print. How in the world did her baptism certificate end up there? It’s just too strange to be coincidence!
Thanks for sharing!
Hey, Robin, I’m not surprised ; – )
LikeLike
alittlediddy, that’s an AMAZING story. How wonderful. Your Higher Power was looking out for you. And maybe your grandfather and grandmother’s Spirits as well! Thanks so much for sharing that story which is now a part of your family history, too.
It does make you wonder how her baptism certificate ended up behind that print. And why she would plant it there? Hmmmm. Does your family have any clues about that piece?
ybonesy, sounds like you and Liz are both Frog people. 8) Frog is Cleansing, water rites, honoring our tears because they cleanse the soul. Lizard is Dreaming…dreaming into the future. Mountain Lion (or puma) is leadership and lessons on the uses of power in leadership, both positive and negative.
I think a lot of times we are combinations of all of our power animals. Lessons we need to learn; lessons we teach. I think I’ll pull a card tonight.
LikeLike
This post made my eyes tear generously. I am a believer that hummingbird is Jim’s totem animal-hummingbird recognizes a kindred spirit in Jim, or why else rest in his hand? This is so lovely as is the drawing, and a wonderful writing about one of life’s mysteries. G
LikeLike
Beautiful colibrí, ybonsey. I’ll be back tomorrow to comment on your story.
LikeLike
I loved this story, and I loved how you told it.
“He held the tiny limp body cupped in his hands while I held the bowl. He dipped the bird’s beak into the water. “Drink, little bird,” he said in a little bird voice.”
&
“Jim drops the hose, walks to the cactus, extends his arm. Plop, the hummingbird hops from the plant to Jim. He turns to me, smiles.
I never told him I didn’t believe him before. My mouth is open.”
favorite parts.
LikeLike
Thanks for the comments. They are most wonderful. It is a mysterious thing, and I hope Jim continues to hear from them. There is something healing, I know and I can see, whenever Jim hears from the hummingbird.
LikeLike
What a beautiful story. I too am a believer. Jim’s hummingbirds speak to him because he’s open to them, he speaks their language somehow. Maybe it does have to do with his sweet brother who flitted around him as a child. You communicate the whole experience so well. Now I feel like this story is part of my own personal mythology.
Your illustrations and the story would make a wonderful book, ybonsey. I feel so lucky to be sitting here on my computer, finding these words as if by magic on a cloudy Sunday morning.
LikeLike
Hi – just wanted to tell you I read the hummingbird story – and I love your doodles. Especially loved the teapot one.
I posted a poem which is now decades old, called the woman singing – on my blog C LIttle No Less – you might note it has a hummingbird in it too.
thanks for everything. I loved seeing the burnt sienna bosque, I was in the office today and all of that is out the window and over there…yet I got the snapshot of that deep golden December light on red willow via the internet.
(you can post a comment if you just sign up for a google account, not such a big deal, google doesn’t bite.)
LikeLike
Hey Linda, thanks for stopping by again.
I’ll check out this poem. I loved your other one about the changing room in the gym. What a coincidence that you wrote about hummingbirds this time, too.
I actually did sign up for a Google account so that I could comment on someone’s blog — I think it was my friend mimbresman. I forgot the password and I think I locked myself out of it. I might try again. But if I sign up for another account, I won’t get to be me — ybonesy — cuz that’s the one I got the first time.
Wasn’t the bosque incredible yesterday?
LikeLike
Linda, I tried again tonight to log into my Google/blogger acct, but alas, i still can’t recall the p/w. Have sent for help, but in the mean time, in case you pop in again, I read your mom’s card, which you made into a poem of sorts. It is rich! I loved it.
Here’s the link for anyone else who wants to see it:
http://chickenlil.blogspot.com/2007/11/moms-xmas-in-maine-taken-verbatim-from.html#links
LikeLike
[…] One person’s was the gentle giant, elephant. I said immediately, “Mountain lion.” We looked at Jim — his must be the hummingbird. […]
LikeLike
what is the significance, if any, of hanging a hummingbird flag on the front of your charming house? Or that and a 2 and 1/2 foot statue of the bhudda on your porch under it?
LikeLike
Hmmm, not sure there would be any significance except that someone likes those symbols. The windcatchers are pretty popular around these parts.
We have a garden gnome that we inherited when bought our old house. We brought it to this one, and frankly, it spooks me a bit.
LikeLike
[…] This weekend Jim rescued a hummingbird that got stuck in our potting shed. It flew into an open door then couldn’t find its way out. Just as it seemed to be on the verge of exhaustion from flitting this way and that, bumping windows and ceiling, Jim caught the bird then set it free. Jim has a way with hummingbirds. […]
LikeLike
[…] I wasn’t wearing a leather halter top. Sweet Nectar It was only natural that Jim, the Hummingbird Whisperer, would be mesmerized two bands earlier by the liquid flute of native son Robert Mirabal, who hails […]
LikeLike
[…] hummingbird hides – joy! rain dances on the surface tropical marriage […]
LikeLike
[…] the photo of Jim and his lapdog Rafael? Well, Jim is something of an animal whisperer. Critters of all types love him. And the reason is that Jim lets creatures be themselves. […]
LikeLike
[…] many cultures that honor the otherworldly role of animals in our lives. There are birth totems and spiritual totems, and those who appear once in a blue moon to remind us of what might be important in that moment. […]
LikeLike
[…] marveled at Jim’s gift, how he can commune with hummingbirds (they’re back, by the way; just showed up this week) and the ghost of a former matron of the […]
LikeLike
ybonesy, hope your travels home from Vietnam were good. I know that’s a long flight for you. I missed you! I wanted to let you know I’ve been thinking of you and Jim the last few days because we’ve had hummingbirds visit our deck and feeders.
It’s the first year we’ve had the hummers come so close. We actually put up a feeder this year (a gift from friends) and planted lantana on the deck (which they seem to love) so they come and hover a few inches from our living room windows sometimes. The cats love to watch them. They have a different reaction than they do to other birds. Kiev and Mr. Stripeypants seem to love to sit and watch them.
They are so fast, I haven’t been fast enough to get a close shot of them yet (I’m pretty sure these are ruby-throated). But I instantly thought of Jim and his Hummingbird medicine. Quite a gift. The gift of Joy.
LikeLike
It sounds strange but the reason I looked this up was to see why this happens to me. Much like Jim I have a gift of birds , crows and hummingbirds . Once while down in spirit over a disagreement with my son I came in around midnight with my wife and we heard buzzing . My wife said oh it’s a hummingbird it was here when we left earlier . I felt I knew why it was there . My wife went in and I said I know why your hear and it came and I picked it up opened the door and said you wanna see this . She came out and I told her how this happened opened my hand and it flew away . But as I was talking to her without stopping I raised my hand with my finger out and it landed on my finger again. I had this happen before so I understood.
LikeLike