Nea Fane – Un Biet Român Pripășit în America / A Hapless Romanian Stuck in The US

A non-believer’s guide to signs

After my mom died, maybe three or four months later, my father found a baby pigeon on the sidewalk, barely alive. He took it home and, slowly, patiently, nursed it back to life. He named it Dosoftei and kept it in the kitchen for months.

I remember Irina, the young family doctor who once saved my father’s life when he had pneumonia and stubbornly refused treatment. She bought him medicine and stayed by his side for two days until he improved. Of course, I only found out about this much later, years later, so I didn’t have to worry in real time.

Irina had long, curly hair, and Dosoftei loved curling into it. Somehow, he was very civilized and never pooped on anyone. Only everywhere else around the kitchen. One day, my father left the window open, on purpose, just to see what would happen. Dosoftei was getting restless and, like any normal bird, he flew away.

He came back a few times, alone or accompanied by other pigeons. Until, one day, he didn’t. My father swears that the pigeon was sent by my mother to help him. That year, they both healed each other.

My father had a unique gift for naming our pets: the pig was Cleopatra, the goat was Desdemona, and the small dog, because why not, was Bujumbura.

….

When Cosmin left us, I read somewhere that fireflies are the souls of the departed.
In Romanian Orthodox tradition, a soul rises after forty days.

For forty days, every single evening, we saw fireflies dancing around his grave.
Every. Single. Evening. Around his grave.

….

On May 20th, 2023, one day before his 30th birthday, during our usual visit to Cosmin’s resting place, we had an unexpected encounter. A family of hawks circled above us. Usually, it’s just the crows and a few small singing birds, but this time, the hawks came. They looked at us. Stayed a while. And when we left… they left too.

….

When Bill passed, as sad as it was, Irina inherited a cemetery cat, a scruffy alley cat that belonged to no one, and to everyone. Several people fed her, my wife included. We still had some of Bill’s food and treats left.

We can only hope that, wherever she has gone, they are taking good care of her.

Update:
A good friend told me that the hawk is often seen as a powerful symbol of those who have passed on, a kind of messenger between realms, connecting the departed with the living.

Here’s one of many links that explore this idea: https://www.hep6.com/hawk-symbolism-facts-meaning-totem-spirit-power-animal/#V_Hawk_Native_American_Symbolism