Who is Feeding Whom?

Today I Fed a Butterfly as a Friend and a butterFly Fed my Soul - July 28

It was 4:09 pm when I called my dear friend. Oh, time, time goes so quickly. I am reminded of this more intensely these days that I felt the time was right on my side of the line to call. Although met with a recording, her voice took me back, and my heart was full. As I was hanging up, I could hear her answer. Immediately my phone rang, 1:09 her time:-)

Ingrid and I have been friends since our boys were babies. You know how it goes, some people enter your life like a meteor and fade with time while others seem to become a part of you. Her voice soothed like the gentle rhythm of a rocker. I felt whole again.

You see, today had been one of those days. Days where the guilt and grief feel unbearable. One of those days I’d like to stay in bed under my weighted blanket. Sure, I tell myself, one day in bed wouldn’t hurt, but on these days, I don’t want a just a day.

I headed to my covered porch for this long overdue conversation. A quick shower had tempered the heat and humidity. I got comfy, and the catching up began. I found out the latest happenings with each of her three children as well she of my son. In a blink, the conversation turned to inconsolable sobs. As Ingrid gently reminded me that she knows me, and that she knows what kind of mom I was, a butterfly lit upon our porch. I began to breath as tears and talk provide relief. We talked and talked and the butterfly flitted about even sitting on my hand for a moment. Ingrid and I said our goodbyes promising to get together soon, but the butterfly remained.

I have always had a love of butterflies since childhood. As I grew older, I began to feel their symbolic significance. And although the rational side of me smirks at myself, my heart and soul choose to believe they are a sign of hope. Kinda like an I’m okay.

This particular butterfly decided to stay with me as I choose to stay with him. I sat for and watched him fly about. He paced about my porch searching for something. My rational mind thought, maybe this butterfly was dying. I used my phone to read all about butterflies, how long they can live, how frail they are, how often they die of starvation. Next thing you know I am looking up how to fed a butterfly.

The sites visited agreed 15% sugar solution. I read that if the butterfly was inactive to gently pick up the butterfly by its wings and sit it on a sponge soaked in this solution. Well, this butterfly was much to energetic for that. So I made my mixture and poured spots of sugar water around my porch along with a sponge soaked in the solution. I waited. I waited. I waited.

Well, the butterfly kept missing the spots. I ran back in and mixed more of the sugary solution. When the butterfly lit near me, I tried to pour some of the mixture near him, but he quickly flitted away. Still I waited snapping pictures of this beautiful Red-spotted Purple Admiral (Limenitis arthemis)

Breathtaking. I sat, snapped, and sat some more. A hummingbird flew by but unlike the butterfly, was gone in a breath.

I sat and sat and suddenly, the butterfly moved close to the sponge. It’s long tongue (proboscis - it's like a straw) sucking up the little path toward it. He actually stuck his tongue into the sponge for a bit then began following the trail of sugary treat that lead to puddle of this sugary delight. The feeding continued on and off until, he seemed to have his fill. Then this beautiful creature flew away. I waited but he did not return.

Oh, the simple signs that we gravitate toward when we have a loss. Who is to say if we go with our head or our hearts? Well, I looked up symbolic meaning of butterflies, one of them was to lighten up. This is what my mom always told Walt and I.

As the sun begins to set, I run out again to the porch, but find no trace of this beautiful creature. Fly away into another day of life. This fragile life that can be gone just as quickly as the setting son.

I smiled as I began to step into my house. Laughing, thinking I should maybe call this piece Today I Fed 10,000 Ants😊

My Second Visitor - One with Tattered Wings - August 30

Surprised with another beautiful butterfly who stopped to greet me on his travels This one with tattered wings. I plucked a fuchsia blossom and made haste to mix the human nectar.

Sugar jar already on the counter - it's rare for I drink my coffee black and seldom have use for the refined white crystal.I had decided to surprise my son with his favorite, homemade chocolate chip cookies. As I mixed the dough, I felt the the pull of both joy and sorrow. Joy for my son's senses to be awakened by the sugary delight - you know the aroma, the texture, the chocolaty gooeyness, - saddened for his big brother will not be here to say to his brother, “Okay, I’m having just one more,” sometimes adding, “More reps this week at the gym, Will.” I look at the pool of egg whites resting in the bowl, leftovers form the bake, knowing those would have been whipped into a meringue, Walt's and my favorite. The juxtaposition of pain and joy is a welcome alternative to the singular.

Back to the kitchen, glass, teaspoon water, sugar - back for the blossom - stirring the sugary solution sloshing in a rhythm as I hurried back to my hungry visitor.

Dipping the blossom into the glass, I slowly placed this dripping fuchsia treat near to the, dare I say it? The Hungry Butterfly - not a Caterpillar anymore.

The butterfly began to sip and I began to snap and snap.

So, as my son enjoyed one more cookie, I smiled at knowing I fed another sugary delight to a tired tattered traveler. Perhaps, this sustenance allowed this beautiful creature another day. I hope so.

~susan fischer crooks

*Visit our Gallery for those captured snaps.