This story is a little weird, but I’m writing it for myself anyway, and I know how weird I am. I don’t judge my weirdness; I just go with it.

My sister was 14 months younger than I. My mother was a few days short of 20 years older. Somehow growing up, we became very close. We would laugh until we cried -- and cried until we laughed. We played cards a lot, both pinnacle and mostly canasta. It wasn’t all good, but it wasn’t all bad. Then I left for college and never came home except to visit.

We really did not get along all that well once we became teens. As adults, things got worse, and there were other life issues: divorces, alcohol, drugs, fear, anxiety, poverty, and lots of anger. Yet sometimes, we would still laugh until we cried and cried until we laughed.
They both died, six months apart, 13 years ago, first my sister from alcohol and drug abuse three days before my birthday; my mother from the flu (and honestly, because she didn’t want to turn 70) on the day after Christmas. Our youngest sister was there for both deaths, dealing with it all on her own. She has strength I could never have.

Oh, the crows? Yes. A few years before my sister died, my mother, an antique dealer, bought a trio of stuffed crows mounted on a branch. I never got to see the mounted birds (long story), but my mother and sister had declared that the three crows represented the three of us. Weird, I know, but my sister was really into Edgar Allan Poe as a teen, which wove itself into the symbolism. I was so touched that they included me. I had grown to feel excluded from them, and honestly, I had a pretty good life and wanted to keep it that way, so the exclusion was probably more mine.

Since their death, when I see three crows sitting together, I think of the three of us. I think of how much I would have loved to have those stuffed birds, but my sister took them and who knows what happened. I think of how much I would love to laugh and cry and laugh with them again. 

Fast forward to now.

About a month ago, I started researching crows and how to be friendly with them. We have lots around here, but they have never landed in the yard, not in 22 years. I bought myself a “crow call” for Christmas and opened it early. (Well, I never actually wrapped it.) I tried it, and the crows answered back though none came to visit. I kept practicing. Then, on the 27th of December, I opened my eyes in the early morning to see three crows hopping around my backyard. Yay!

But this morning, the 29th of December, I was having this weird dream. Someone was telling me about the crows. And apparently, crows and I could communicate. It was one of those super strange dreams where you can remember the feelings but not the details. I rolled over in bed, opened my eyes, and there were two crows in my backyard. I was excited and took a blurry pic while the excitement was streaming down my cheeks.

I hope they’ll be back.