It's the silence of sorrow

I know this.  I lost the parrot on the 13th of October.  That's over a month of tears and pain of loss.

Obnoxious bird brain he may have been, but he had been with me for over 20 years and was so thoroughly integrated into my life that there were no decisions of any kind made without an automatic reflection on how it would affect him.  Literally, from what time I got up in the morning to what I made for meals, to HOW I made them for meals.  How I cleaned house, how I interacted with the world and for how long.

Now there's a hole because I go to do anything and there's this horrible moment when I realize that there's no bird waiting for the outcome.  And then I start to cry again.  

He used to ride on my shoulder all through the house, he'd shower with me when the weather was warm enough that he wouldn't catch cold from being damp.  He'd have dinner with me and sit on my lap insisting on getting petted BEFORE the cats.  He would snuggle under my hands and give me a totally innocent and charming look to get me to pet under his wings and chin.  Then before bed, he would snuggle under my hair or chin and give me bird kisses while he muttered at me.  This generally ended with him saying night night as I put him down for the night.

Parrots can be such interactive and personable pets that it's absolutely devastating when they die.

I recognize the fact that Torrii had lived over 20 years and had maintained very good health for the most part throughout his life.  I also recognize that he died and it wasn't my fault.  I do, at least on paper, recognize this fact, just like I recognize that 20 years is the high average lifespan for this type of bird.

But mostly what I recognize is that my house is nearly silent, there are no chirps, whistles, calls, singing, or little bird voices telling me that he loves me.  I recognize that my shoulder and hands are empty of the sweet, nibbling, snuggling, kissing bird who was there for over half of my life. 

And then I start to cry again.  I don't expect to stop crying for his loss any time soon.    I know I will need to move ahead with my life eventually, but not yet.  21 years doesn't deserve to be brushed off so quickly.