This hummingbird glass sculpture was purchased to be my cake-topper at my wedding to match the light hints of hummingbird throughout my wedding (like the hummingbirds mom embroidered on my dress).  Less than a year after the wedding my cat skidded across my dresser, knocked it to the ground and shattered it. I refuse to throw it away. It sits there, sealed in a plastic bag, for eternity. The symbol of the hummingbird means too much to give up. I dream of finding someone to fix this cake-topper, even though I know it’s not possible.

*~*

My grandparents used to take an annual trip to see my Grampa’s brother. They’d go out to Massachusetts and spend time with family, and then return home to Buffalo.

One of their favorite parts of the trip was sitting outside and watching the hummingbirds buzz around.

Then, my great-uncle passed away, and my grandparents went out for the funeral. On their last night there, in the cool evening air they spoke of my uncle. As he sat there talking, a hummingbird flew up near my Grampa’s shoulder and hovered. It lingered near his face for several minutes, flitting back and forth before flying off.

They all decided that had been my great-uncle stopping by for one last visit.

Almost seventeen years ago, after a year’s fight against cancer, my Grampa passed away.

It was September in Buffalo.  Cold air had begun to move in. All summer things were fading.  I returned to New York with the funeral, and then went right back to NC to return to school.

Three weeks later the family grapevine lit up with the story.

At the end of September, Gramma was out on her porch to bring in all the chairs, etc. for winter. It was a yearly ritual when it just became too cold to sit on the porch. Since it was sunny, she decided to sit outside for one last afternoon. Wrapped in her sweater she sat, watching the cars go by as she always did.

There.

In the cold end of September.

Hovering near a hanging plant.

Buzzed a hummingbird.

It flew under the porch roof.

Hovered near Grandma.

And then took off.

*

Every September for the past sixteen years.

Even if I have not seen one all year.

A hummingbird shows up.

Every year.

*~*

I won’t let go of the cake topper.

The hummingbird is still in one piece.

And Grampa still visits.

*~*~*
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