Watch Over Them

I sat holding the box of her ashes. For several weeks, I stared at them on the shelf.  There, I watched my friend Sydney resting on my shelf. After her funeral in Washington, I carried her remains on the plane back home with me.  

Between summer school, working on the bathroom remodel, the Panama trip planning and organizing for the two trips back to Washington and Wisconsin this summer, I was overwhelmed.  Sure.  I was excited about seeing birds, but I had so much going on in my mind that I felt trapped with commitments. It took a bit of the free spirit out of my travel.  But sitting down with Sydney's ashes helped me focus.  I took some of the ashes out of the canister which were beautifully put together by her daughter Jeffie Lou.  The tin had a fabric cover with a bird on it to represent our love for birds. 

                                                            female Green Honeycreeper

As I put some of the ashes in a small travel pouch outside our home, the wind picked up a few particles and got into my face.  I laughed a bit.  Oh Sydney how you made me smile. Then I carefully secured her ashes in my suitcase. The next part was going to be more difficult.  Where would I place her ashes while I was in Panama that would honor and respect her wishes? I had ideas, but I needed time to really think. 

While on the trip, I'd hear her voice in my head responding to all of our observations while we were on the trails. Sydney and I rarely spoke about her past. She escaped an abusive and dangerous relationship during her first marriage. In the process of it all, she fell in love with a man, Jefferson Jackson, who changed the course of her world and made her feel safe and loved. They escaped Kansas with her son in fear for their lives. Sydney's story was written in a book by her surviving son Scott Jackson. What I love about Sydney and her family is that they are such positive people. I was dealing with some anger issues when Sydney and I first met.  It was from our past's pain that we both found common ground and became friends. Sydney's words were strong but they always carried a message of love.  

I can't even imagine what it was like for them escaping the hell that they were caught up in. It wasn't that she was just running away with a man who loved her.  He was also black.  According to the times and culture, a white woman and a black man were not supposed to be together.  As a person in one of those interracial marriages, I can relate to all the horrible things that people say. They look at me and think “white guy” so it’s okay to share whatever they believe. It’s ugly and unforgivable. Sydney taught me to lean towards the better part of myself. "The past", she would tell me, "is done. We have to move forward." It didn't mean forgetting. It just meant "move forward" and choose carefully the people who surround you. She was a spiritual woman and one who lived a life of love and compassion for others.  After the funeral, I read Scott's story. It was not easy to get through some of the pages. We can choose anger or love. Sydney chose love.  And in the end, she won. 

                                                                     Gray-headed Kite

While everyone was enjoying the bird discoveries, I took a look around me. Part of the reason I chose to explore the Darien Gap was to see the indigenous tribes who live in the forest.  I also wanted to see the illegal immigration that so many people had been reporting.  During covid, much of it stopped because people were afraid. Then 2021 happened.  And the flood gates opened.  On the day we went into the forest for the Dusky-backed Jacamar, we saw canoe after canoe filled with refugees from places like Haiti and Venezuela.  

                                                                       Pearl Kite

We saw our birds.  I dropped my phone in our canoe full of water.  I watched the Embera brush their teeth in the dirty river water. There I was with my fancy camera swatting bugs off of myself with an umbrella over my head trying not to stare at those who were risking their lives for a better future.  Some will die.  Others will get caught and sent back. While others will get lost in the transit and settle in other countries on their way to the US.  The rest will be caught and used in sex or work trade.  And even if they make it to the US, life will not be easy for them. I sat in my canoe worried about my wet phone.  A part of me even felt guilty for birding. At one point, I made eye contact with an older man on a canoe. Our life experiences were night and day. And yet he had a smile on his face, knowing that perhaps he had a chance to live a better life. 

                                                                 Variable Seedeater

On the canoe, I wondered what Sydney would have thought about those feelings.  I kind of already knew. Our bird talk would have been replaced with her own story. She also fled Kansas and had been heading to Canada for safe haven.  It was a border agent who stopped them and recommended that they live in Sequim, Washington where no one would care who she loved or married.  They wouldn't look for her there. She lived a full and wonderful life with Jefferson.  Together they raised Scott and Jeffie Lou while living in their cabin in the woods of Sequim. Later Jefferson passed away and Sydney lost the love of her life. Sydney would eventually retire from the Post Office and left Sequim to serve in the Peace Corps and later live her final years in Florida. 

On that river, I heard her voice and I took out my little bag from my backpack. I sprinkled some of her ashes into the river.  

Just as you fled to find safety; so do they. Watch over these people as they also try to find a safe home. There I let a part of you go into the waters. That's when I knew it was the right time and place for you...at least a piece of you.  In this, I found your meaning.

                                                             White-headed Wren

I still had some of her ashes left.  In one area, I placed them around our tent because she always loved meeting new people from other places.  

And the third place was near the seating area in the garden where she could be present listening to other's stories while watching the butterflies and hummingbirds. She loved finding a place and just sitting there, absorbing everything around her which included observing excellent wildlife and new encounters with people who didn't mind striking up a conversation with a stranger. 

It was hard letting go of her ashes until I remembered that I had more at home.  There is a selfish part of me that wants to keep a part of her near our home. So some of her ashes will be placed around an area that I have dedicated to the hummingbirds and butterflies at our place in Tucson. 

Throughout this entire process, I think we all figured out we wanted to keep some of Sydney's ashes. I'm glad I was given some of her ashes for safekeeping. The lesson for me?  When you have ashes, hold onto them and give yourself time to grieve before doing anything with them.  Or at least keep some of them in a safe place. 

                                                                  Red-billed Scythebill

This trip to Panama was different. So you all see the birds on this post without any background or bird info? That's how much of it felt for me.  I saw lots of great birds but they were just wonderful distractions. In the past, Sydney and I chatted a lot while on our nature walks, beach visits, garden work, home decorations, etc. We saw what we saw and laughed a lot in the process. I let our guide point out the birds and I got lazy. I have never done that before. Was it fun?  Yes.  Was it safe?  Yes.  But I was not in the right frame of mind.  For the first time, I saw this birding as a technical trek.  Studying the birds was fun and finding new and old species of birds was exciting. I was just a bit detached from the whole thing. I gave about 80 percent of my energy to the trek instead of the 130 percent I usually do. 

                                                                 Whooping Motmot

As I flew home, I thought about Sydney.  I thought about how this year has changed the way I think about things in life. Some people would say take a break, but a birder never really takes a break.  We're always looking.   

It felt good to bird and I was thankfully able to get new birds on my life list while still carrying out my personal duties as a friend and learning about a new area for my Spanish teacher knowledge.  She had taught me how to appreciate the moment because after her serious heart issue, she felt that every day afterwards was a gift.  We have one last trek together, but for now, we will wait until things get better around the world. 

                                                                   Southern Lapwing