He should not have brought me a gift. It takes all of my courage to gingerly untie the ribbon and lift up the lid. “Oh my god!” I cover my mouth with my hands, trying not to cry out. My eyes sting as I take a step forward, bending over to get a closer look at the tiny little object nestled in amongst a bed of lilac tissue paper inside: the white of his chest, that fades to the blue of his back, that deepens to the dark, midnight blue at the tips of his wings… It’s the bird, my mother’s bird, the one that was shattered into a million pieces…and he’s somehow been pieced back together.
