Epitaph

Ruminations on loss and decisions

With Rico in July last year, his first day home after leg surgery.

Still processing the grief after Rico, I did the inexplicable two days ago. I purchased another bird, Pico. Pico shares the same birthday month as Rico (October) and was born on the 22nd of 2024, Rico on the 23rd of 2011. A whole bunch of serendipitous events led me to finding Pico. He was in the exact situation Rico had been in all those years ago (having spent a year in the pet store). He was in a Petco way up on 86th street, a place I would never have gone were it not for a young couple I met in Pet Start who sent me a pic.

Still, all these things considered, I still felt guilt. Guilt for not waiting, guilt for not fully having the support of a close friend in my purchase. Guilt for perhaps not honouring Rico with a ‘gap year’. However, constantly aware of my own mortality, I made the decision to do it now. Last night I wrestled with my feelings and in the process, wrote this.

I decided to share with you, who have been on this journey with me…..

He can never replace you. He is not you.

You were singular - gentle, wounded, luminous in ways only the broken ever are. I loved you.

You taught me how.

My new bird, like you, spent his first year behind glass and wire,

Confined to a store cage.

He knew no hands that stayed, no voice that returned,

Only passing glances and pointing fingers.

People came and went. He remained.

Waiting, unchosen.

Unloved in ways that matter.

He is not you. He can never be you.

I still grieve you - deeply, daily.

Your absence is not something I move past; it is something I carry.

But does loving you mean I must turn away from another who suffers in the space you left behind?

Does grief demand abandonment? Or did you teach me something greater - that love, once learned, must be practised?

This will take work. It may not work at all. There are moments when my decision paralyses me,

When the weight of comparison and fear tightens around my chest.

I question myself. I ache.

I hesitate.

And yet - I feel you with us,

In the quiet moments.

In the small signs. In the sudden calm that comes without explanation.

You reassure me that you are not gone, only no longer visible.

That love does not end - it changes form.

I believe you will help us.

I know you already are.

You walk beside us on this unfamiliar path. You brought us together

Two fragile, uncertain souls stitched gently by what you left behind.

I will not go a day without missing you, my friend.

Some bonds do not loosen with time.

They deepen

No more words are needed.

Our spirits will meet again.

I love you.

Pico