Love

Adventureboy was a little better last night. He wasn't weeping openly, but his eyes were very moist.

I picked him up after school. He didn't want to go get a hot chocolate, so we drove back to his mom's house.

We sat in his room. He laid on the bed, cradling Silver, the poor dead cockatiel, against his chest. Bronco, the stray cockatiel they'd rescued, was on the Jigglet's shoulder.

As I mentioned, Bronco is very defensive...opens his beak ready to bite if anyone approaches him. Yet, yesterday, he left my son pick him up without any fuss. He was quite happy to sit on the kid's shoulder.

And, even stranger, he was deeply affectionate to my son. Bronco kept rubbing his feathery head against my son's cheek. He bowed his head to let Adventureboy scratch under the crest of feathers, which was very unusual.

It seems to me that everyone has the need to love someone or something. Even bad people need to express some aspect of love. Hitler, for instance, loved his dog. Twisted and stunted though it was, the need to love came out. Maybe that was as much love as Hitler was capable of allowing to escape from his damaged heart.

My son loved his bird, however imperfectly. I pray he'll heal, and not let this loss make him afraid of loving.

There is no perfect love that humans can express. All we can do is live, learn, and keep loving to the best of our ability.