Wednesday, October 2, 2013

THE BUTTERFLY WHISPERER


THE BUTTERFLY WHISPERER by Sara Etgen-Baker
 

I entered Whispering Pines where I found the large French doors of the day room flung wide open; the air—light and fresh—gently blew the long, crisp, white curtains to and fro.  I walked through the doors—the morning sunshine shimmering through the pine trees—and saw Pop sitting on the verandah surrounded by a rabble of butterflies.
He was slumped over in his wheelchair, his limp left arm tied to the chair’s railing.  He looked up and waved with his good hand.  “Sara!” he called with delight.  I caught my breath and fought back the tears. 
 “Re…re…remember?  He flashed me a smile.  “Bu…bu…butterflies!”  Since his stroke, Pop couldn’t form full, flowing sentences—just words and even those came out slowly. 
“Yes, I remember!”   I squeezed his hands.  “When one of your monarchs emerged from its chrysalis, you showed me how to guide it to walk on my finger.  That was my first memorable butterfly encounter!”  I scooted a chair next to him; we held hands, and the hours imperceptibly passed as we watched the butterflies.
I was 35 when my father first introduced me to his butterflies.  “Why are you raising butterflies?” I asked. 
 “I witness grace.”

 “Grace?” I chuckled for even then Pop was a man of few words.  “I don’t understand.” 

“After the chrysalis is formed, the butterfly faithfully waits in its dark cocoon—unable to move, to see, or to care for itself.  But in that mysterious darkness, it’s not afraid.  It bears the unbearable not knowing and trusts in something bigger that’s calling it to change.  That’s grace.” 

We continued watching butterflies on the verandah until the afternoon sun told me it was time to go.  I kissed Pop on the cheek.  “Gra…gra…grace,” he said.  “Stroke is gra…gra…grace.  I not a…a…afraid.”

Pop’s words soothed my broken heart.  Although his stroke had wrapped him in a dark cocoon where he was unable to move, to speak, or care for himself, Pop wasn’t afraid.  He was bearing the unbearable not knowing and trusting in something bigger that was calling him to change.  Grace had strengthened him.