The Mural

 

The Bluebird Story

While my husband was still terminally ill, my daughter-in-law’s father found out he had pancreatic cancer.  He fought a fearless battle, but ultimately passed away on March 6, 2020.  Toward the end of his life, he shared with his family that he would return to them as a bluebird.  This man was a gentle giant, an Italian, originally from Brooklyn, New York.  He specifically said “bluebird, not the blue jay” would be his spirit sign.  After his memorial service on March 11, my daughter-in-law returned to her home to find a bluebird sitting on the gutter above the garage.  The Eastern male bluebird is bright blue with an orange chest.  Some believe the bluebird is a symbol of joy and hope; or that good news will be arriving soon.  Others, like our family, think bluebirds represent a connection between the living and the deceased.  Worldwide the bluebird has many meanings to different cultures, all positive and encouraging.

Directly behind my son and daughter-in-law’s home began the construction of a greenway project in 2019 that had been in the planning since we moved to Cary in 1992. The White Oak Creek Greenway would be the last segment to connect the existing greenways and therefore offer a trail from Raleigh to the American Tobacco Trail in Durham and be part of a trail stretching from Maine to Florida.  The delay had been due to the railroad track that crossed the proposed area because CSX still ran a single freight train daily along this track.  This is the same track that passed through my backyard all these years. In order to accommodate the trail, a tunnel would have to be constructed under the tracks.  This was an extensive and expensive project, but it finally came to fruition.  In 2021, the segment between MacArthur Park Dr and Davis Drive was completed with a boardwalk leading behind my neighbors’ houses and leading up to the tunnel.  I lived next door to my son at the time of this construction.  The greenway didn’t really affect my home, but the tunnel was almost directly behind my son’s backyard fence.  The town had entertained much opposition by neighbors over this project due to many issues.  My disapproval was mostly of the clear cutting of massive oaks and pine trees that had served as a buffer between our neighborhood and Davis Drive. This clear cutting was necessary to install the tunnel and unavoidable, but very disheartening. Now we could see and hear the traffic on Davis Drive.  That is the price of progress I suppose.  

 A local muralist, Lisa Gaither, was commissioned by the Town of Cary to paint a mural on the concrete face of the tunnel entrance/exit on both sides.  My son’s house was basically the only house that would have a direct view of the mural.  I suppose to avoid any future conflict the town of Cary had the courtesy to ask my daughter-in-law and son their opinion of the design.  It was colorful and beautiful with native flora and fauna.  My daughter-in-law made one “small” request.  She asked if they could incorporate a bluebird into the mural in memory of her father who had recently passed away.  Normally, changing a pre-commissioned town project would take an act of Congress I suppose.  The town and the muralist simply agreed to honor the request.  It was fascinating to watch the artist work beginning in the spring of 2021 and finishing both sides of the tunnel by the end of August.  The project started on our side from right to left and each day more and more color appeared on the once plain concrete.  At the very end on the left side of the mural, the closest to my son’s home, was painted a beautiful bluebird.  Nothing had been deleted to add it there. The space was the perfect spot for the addition.  This wasn’t any tiny little bird either.  It was a very large part of the design.  Now every day, my son and daughter-in-law can look out their back windows and see the bluebird artwork, in addition to the visits they get from the real Eastern bluebirds that frequent their yard.

Tammy Harvey

1/8/2023

Imagine

Mystical, magical Daisy

There once was a young lady named Daisy,
The townspeople thought she was crazy,
She strolled through the town,
In her nightgown,
The townspeople considered her lazy,
Daisy was far from being a fool,
She had with her a very small stool,
She carried her stool on top of her head,
The townspeople laughed, or so it was said,
And when she would tire,
She’d sit down and admire,
The cobblestone, the streetlamps, the flowers and such,
In her little town, she loved it so much,
When walking the street,
Her joy was complete,
The townspeople secretly envied her delight,
Though they never saw her out at night,
For at night, she walked among the stars,
And gathered the moonlight into jars,
She had such grace and so much charm,
And didn’t cause anyone harm,
Carefully placing her jars at townspeople’s ledges,
While they slept soundly, she was there in their hedges,
She hung her stool on the crescent moon,
As she hummed to herself a cheerful tune,
She was mystical; she was magical,
She was utterly fantastical.

Tammy Harvey
1/11/2023

The Enormity of Grief

Grief

The enormity of grief is not known until we lose a loved one,
It is a process that is never truly completed, although it is done,
I mean, we feel somewhat better as time goes on,
But we are never the same, and the hurt is never all gone,
The what ifs and the vision of how it would have been,
Visit us in our dreams, with questions of why and when,
It’s like the pages in a book were abruptly tore away,
And our ending is rewritten, the very next day,
Even in the situation of terminal illness, when we know,
Are we ever truly prepared to let them go?
When their health declines, and their quality of life is no more,
We start grieving the loss of the one we knew before,
The realization of upcoming loss doesn’t make it less difficult,
Just gives us additional time to properly deal with it,
The grieving begins before the loved one is gone,
It is a lifeline to them with just a thread to hang on,
We learn to ebb and flow just like the tide,
It is an emotional and unpleasant rollercoaster ride,
In a disoriented first year, celebrating every holiday is new,
How to proceed is a mystery without any clue,
We go through the motions, but our hearts are numb,
Memories pound our conscious like a relentless drum,
Some thoughts are happy, and some are of sickness,
Of the horrible diseases we had to witness,
By the grace of God, we will see our loved one again,
In a place of rest, void of pain and sin.

Tammy Harvey
1/14/2023

Parenting 101

 

Hang in there!

Nose prints on the windows and handprints on the door,

Multitudes of toys littered all around the floor,

There are diapers to change,

Schedules to rearrange,

Loads of laundry that never go away,

But milestones are happening every day,

The baby took his first step, and the preschooler wrote his name,

The oldest learned to ride a bicycle and play a new board game,

There are mouths to feed, bathes to give- an arduous daily routine,

The days are long, sometimes hard, and the house is never pristine,

But as one who has had the pleasure of going through this stage,

Don’t ask for the end of the book, take it page by page,

A word of advice:  enjoy the journey, with all its frustration,

Life is certainly a journey and not a destination,

Everyone will say that it sure goes by fast,

But it is not a realization until it’s the past,

The days of raising children is building a bridge,

To a new phase in life, consider it a privilege,

Most accomplishments that are fulfilling require difficult trials,

Approach these challenges with laughter and smiles,

Parenting is one of the hardest tasks to endure,

But it can also be the most rewarding, for sure!

Tammy Harvey

1/20/2023