Today is September 11th and I'm not with her, I wasn't with her twelve years ago either. The date, of course, is infamous as the day that the twin towers in New York City were attacked and destroyed in 2001 and it was upon the third anniversary of that date that tragedy struck in her home. It was the day that her dearest darling Dagga Parrot was killed.
Today is Sunday, twelve years ago it was a Saturday, a day very similar to today, a bright Autumnal day. Nothing, when they woke up that morning, was amiss, they had a glorious day planned with friends coming to lunch at the allotments and there was no warning that disaster was about to strike.
But fate stepped in and like a wicked snake, he struck at this little home and silenced their 'music'. Her beautiful boy was wrapped in a length of scarlet felt and laid to 'rest' under a giant pot at the allotments.
Coming home tonight on the bus after a lovely day which included an absolutely delicious lunch with Debbie at Chiswick Farmer's Market and several hours pottering about on the allotments, she thought about coming home twelve years ago.
Having to come back that night into a very silent flat with no grey boy.. just his huge empty cage. Oi vey. The flat was, of course, silent tonight but only because I, yours truly, am in jail but I'm coming out tomorrow and there will be much joy and happiness for both of us.
For we are a flock she and I, it's not a big flock but it's OUR flock and we have been apart for too long. And her being sad in remembering Dagga's death does not mean that she doesn't love me any less, oh no, for she loves me as much as she loved him, I know she does, as she knows I love her.
Oh, come on.. roll on tomorrow. Chop chop.. hully-hully! I so want to go home..
GeeGee Parrot.
September 11th, 2016.
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