Mallards

5 years ago today a beautiful mallard duck crossed my path. It was a bright sunny March day, much like today. There was still a little bit of snow on the ground, and if you listened closely the birds were chirping sweet little spring melodies. It was a lovely tranquil morning. Inside I felt far from tranquil. In my heart there was a tremendous weight, the heavy weight that only grief can bring. I didn't know how I was going to get through the day and I just kept praying that somehow God would get me through because I knew that my own strength wasn't enough.

The night before our family sat around the dinner table as my grandmother shared what exactly she had put in my grandfather's casket. She mentioned that she had put in a stuffed animal duck. My sister was baffled. And kept saying "a duck? you put a duck in the casket? why? I don't get it." My grandmother's reasoning made sense to me because I was the one who had given Tutty that duck. It was a stuffed mallard, and I brought it home one day when he was sick, because I knew how much he missed watching his ducks at the cottage. He kept that duck by his bed until he died. The duck represented Tutty's love for nature. My sister felt it an inappropriate gesture nonetheless and ranted about the "duck" for the rest of the evening.

The next morning as my sister and I were walking to the limousine that would take us to the funeral home where my grandfather's casket was waiting for his funeral procession, a beautiful mallard with a glistening emerald head waddled across the snowy path in front of us and then spread his wings and flew into the sky. I was just so amazed that an actual duck would appear out of nowhere. Neither of us acknowledged the duck at that moment because we were trying to be silent, but for me that duck was God's way of saying, "It will all be okay, I'm carrying you." In that moment that duck was a symbol of God's love for me. It gave me hope that I could get through that day. After the day was over my sister asked me if I had seen the duck. She said that she felt as though that duck was a sign from God and that she now didn't find the stuffed duck so odd anymore.

I have to admit, I just can't look at mallards as just ordinary ducks anymore. Anytime I see one, I stop not only to remember my grandfather, but more so to give thanks for the love and faithfulness of my loving Father. The Father who always provides us with exactly what we need in order to give us the hope and the strength that carry us through this life.