Hummingbirds love red flowers like this bee balm. We've planted a lot in the backyard.

I saw my first hummingbirds of the season tonight, a little later than usual. Hovering in their own unique way just off the deck around the bee balm, I'd wondered when they'd first appear. The freeze we had in April seemed to set much of the garden back several weeks. The daisies, usually a rather early arrival here, still haven't regained their strength.

These petite birds though are amazingly strong. Their migration can literally take them from North to South America, sometimes over vast expanses of water. Still, many of their habits are unknown. Their speed, size, and erratic flight have frustrated scientists and bird enthusiasts from learning all of their secrets.

In so many ways, hummingbirds make me think of Dad. The most obvious way is also the saddest. I saw the first hummingbird of my life the last time I talked to Dad.

As Dad was nearing the end of his fight with congestive heart failure, I tried to keep in touch as best I could. Being south of the St. Louis area by about 90 miles, it wasn't always easy to make the trip to see Dad as often as I would have liked. Life has a way of taking you off your first choces, so phone calls became the lifeline.

Mom would always answer the phone in those days. Dad spent most of his time in his recliner, even sleeping there to ease his breathing, so Mom handled most of the news of the day. For whatever time Dad felt up to it, we talked a little. Sitting outside on a beautiful late spring evening during one of those calls, I heard the now familiar buzz.

Distracted, I saw a hummingbird hovering over some salvia and then dive in. I stopped in mid-sentence to try to tell Dad what I was seeing, but he was tired. In fact, he was losing his fight to breathe. Dad was gone two days later.

Hummingbirds remind me of Dad in other ways too-- the mystery. We lived in the same house for 20-plus years. Since his death, I've read his journals more than once and am about to start them again. Still, I don't know who he really was, what made him tick, what made him seemingly hide a large part of himself from me/us. Our biology is obviously and eternally related. We look more alike as the days pass away. Our stubborness in our beliefs is much of what defines both of us. But in so many ways, we were strangers to each other until the end. The same stubborness that makes us strong was also the wall that kept us apart.

There's rarely a day I don't think of Dad-- what he'd think, what he'd do, whether now we'd finally get around to knowing each other. Hummingbirds, to me, are a bittersweet reminder that Dad is gone. But each spring, their return brings a little of him back to me as well.

In just a few days, Dad will be gone for ten years. I miss you, Dad. Wish you were here.

Note: Seals & Crofts did their share of sappy songs in the early to mid-70s, but Hummingbird was always a beautiful song to me... Don't fly away!