The Story of Gerald

Yes, this is a stinkbug. Around my home, we refer to stinkbugs as Gerald.

It started about 3 years ago, when we realized there was, suddenly, a stinkbug, just there, hanging out like he owned the place, seeming not to care when we nearly set down a coffee cup on him, or almost flipped him into the tub, or practically jumped out of our own skins when he landed on the lampshade right next to our heads.

We wouldn’t kill the stinkbug, in an effort to avoid the terrible odor they’re known for. We’d scoop him up in a tissue and deposit him in the garage, wish him well, and go on with our lives.

Except. Except, several months of one stinkbug after another, after another…after another…later, I realized there was something odd going on.

I’m aware it was, realistically, a new stinkbug every time, determining our house was a great place to spend the winter. But. But, since it looked like the same bug, every time…I decided we had been chosen to host the constant reincarnation of a singular creature, who, for whatever reason, evidently wanted to be in our presence.

So, we started referring to him as Gerald, and whenever we saw him, we’d say hi and gently move him if we needed to, and otherwise not make a big deal out of it. Before long, he was simply a part of our day.

It was a cycle: We’d see a Gerald around for a few days; then we wouldn’t; then the next week or so the next Gerald would appear; and rinse, repeat. Knowing bugs don’t have very long lifespans, even when we didn’t come across a carcass (though sometimes we have), we’re aware that when the current Gerald vanishes, he has probably gone to the Big Plant In The Sky. But, when Gerald the 17th, the 143rd, the 529th (I think we’re up to that by now) joined us, I always felt a little sense of relief.

I am not superstitious. I don’t believe most urban legends, old wives’ tales, or whatever you want to call those strange folklores that determine what’s good or bad luck or some kind of omen. However, once Gerald had become a consistent fixture for us, I did a bit of research.

In various world mythologies, the stinkbug is seen as a symbol of hard work, endurance, self-protection, and listening to your intuition. Last year, while I was dealing with a court case, constant flare-ups, changing jobs, trying to parent through it all, and somehow finish and maybe even release a book no matter what, there was always a Gerald around.

I had to be strong, keep going, guard my heart, stand up for my kids. I needed to speak up when something didn’t feel right, and not care what others thought of a tough, independent, autistic woman. I’d create quite the stink if I had to to get what my family needed.

Basically, in 2023, I was a Gerald.

The other day, I met the most recent Gerald while making tea (I had to move him away from the kettle because, hot, and, danger). In just a few minutes, Gerald had made his way to the other end of the counter (stinkbugs tend to be rather slow movers), so I bent down and watched the little guy’s speedy progress. He (and I am not making this up) stopped, turned to face me, lifted one front leg and rubbed it against his antenna in what looked like a…wave.

I waved back.

Since then, we’ve had a Cat vs. Stinkbug moment — which was rather terrifying, for the cosmic implications of my pet taking down our divinely-appointed mascot — followed by a spotting of Gerald climbing the kitchen wall (yay, proof of survival). I’ve lost track of him in the meantime, so my guess is we’ll be onto Gerald the 601st soon enough.

I’m looking forward to it.