Honouring absent loved ones

A Christmas wish.

Photo by Simon on Unsplash

A robin followed me on my walk yesterday.

It hopped daintily from bare branch to bare branch, cheekily cocking its head as I paused to watch it, curiously. I carried on with my walk, with the sense I was being watched from the hedgerow. Turning, I saw the robin freeze, as if it had been caught out. I smiled and carried on walking, knowing I wasn’t alone.

Ever since my Nana passed away four years ago, I have searched for robins. During the winter of her passing, we were on a family walk at a nearby lake. Our breath travelled above us in cold wisps of white and we held our children’s gloved hands tight to keep them warm. Up ahead, on the path in front of us, a cheeky little robin suddenly appeared and hopped along quietly beside us. We all stopped to watch it, the children laughing with delight as it appeared to be watching us back. It made me think of the saying:

“When robins appear, loved ones are near.” *