The White Owl

It has been fifteen years since my mom has passed away to be in her new haven. And besides for the more obvious reason, I miss her so much every single day. She was not only a beautiful woman on the outside, but she was smart, honest, kind, and so very hilarious. She was always there for me every time I needed her with no questions asked. One of her most generous traits was her love for animals. No matter if she said time and time again that she didn't like dogs or cats; I would find her singing to my dogs and my cat. She was funny that way but, when it came to birds, there was no secret there, she loved birds very much. Every day she would go out to her back yard to feed and water them. After watering all her plants, she would sit on her patio with a cup of coffee in hand and just watch all the little birds enjoying the food she gave. She always looked so peaceful sitting there. It was her earthly haven. Just one of the many things she enjoyed in life.

One of her favorite birds was the owl. Although she always believed if an owl landed in your yard, it meant you would have bad luck. And if you saw a white owl, it was a bad omen, it meant something horrible could happen, even death would be possible. One of the myths or superstitions she believed with owls was the hooting sound they made. If you happened to hear the hoot three times in a row, bad luck would befall you. I know it is all just old tales, but I always hoped it wasn't true.

I recall one afternoon being at home with just my mom, I heard a loud rustling sound coming from the roof over my bedroom. I went to tell my mom, we then hurried to the family room and looked out the window that faced my bedroom. There it was, the biggest and the most majestic owl I had ever seen. Its huge fluffy wings spread openly as it ever so gently perched on the ledge of the roof. Its wondrous eyes, as blue as the clearest ocean met mine. I stared right back at it, a tremendous snowy white owl with specks of light brown. It was such an amazing thing to see. I had seen owls before but nothing even remotely close to this. Words cannot even begin to describe the beauty it beheld. As amazing as it was, my mom said in a whisper that something very bad was going to happen. As those words floated out of her mouth, I turned to look at her. She stood there in awe watching the owl watch us. She smiled ever so slightly and said how beautiful it was. At that moment I wasn't sure if I should scare it off or continue to admire it. I did the only thing I could do knowing all that I knew my mom believed. I stood there and admired its beauty as well.

This wouldn't be the last time I would see that beautiful barn owl. We lived in Texas and as ordinary as it was to see owls; it wasn't very often we would see a white barn owl in the parts we lived. So, seeing it once was what I would have called a miracle. Seeing it again, made me wonder if it held some sort of message with it. It was almost a month from the time we had been blessed with the opportunity to see the barn owl the very first time. Then one late afternoon, as the sun was setting, there it was, in all its glory. It sat on the wooden privacy fence facing our house, just watching. It made me wonder if it was attempting to give us some sort of news. I never did buy into all that superstition stuff, but in all my years I had never seen a white owl, now to see one, two times in less than a month. I don't know about you, but it had me wondering.

I remember looking right into its eyes from my window and asking it what it wanted to tell us. I decided at that moment I would go outside and face it. So, I went. I walked out of the back door slowly and quietly headed towards it. Those eyes, so blue almost like marbles, looked right at me. I was aware of how dangerous and protective of their young owls could be when a human was around. So, I moved as slowly as I could, one step at a time. With every step, I took it would get fluffy as it continued to watch me. With only five or six feet between us, I stopped. Our eyes locked onto one another's, I remember whispering to it, "why are you here?" Its head would turn in all directions then back to me. It looked as if it was checking to make sure no one else was around so that it could respond to my question. Sadly, it just sat there looking down at me. I was tempted to get closer. I so badly wanted to touch it. It looked so soft, like fluffy little clouds all wrapped around it. But alas, I walked backward and left it alone.

Waking up the next morning to the smell of coffee in the air, I could hear my mom and dad talking, It wasn't the weekend, but my dad was home for work which was strange because he was only off weekends. I sat down next to him at the kitchen table, still sleepy. That is when my mom told me what they had been talking about. My dad lost his job. The job he started on his own. The job that wasn't a job but a career was gone. I sat there unsure of what to say, so I said nothing. With my head in my hands, I turned to look out the back door, which was made of glass; I stared and slowly the thought of the white barn owl came to mind. Was it just mere coincidence and just a stupid superstition or was the owl trying to let us know that that would happen? I honestly didn't know. I chose to believe that the owl was just that, an owl, one of God's many beautiful creations. I will never forget how amazing and majestic it was. And even though my mom believed the owl was bad luck, the smile its beauty brought to her loving face will never be forgotten.