Although this seems like an unlikely time to have a story about white birds, the circumstances warrant this story. It was my grandfathers funeral, and as a last minute thought I volunteered to release white birds at the grave. My mother was in favor, and wanted one at the grave and 6 released in the distance. Since it was February, I had the birds locked up because in the winter predation is hard on the flock. I immediately started training the birds to get them ready. Since the cemetery was only a mile away it was no big deal to the birds. For some reason the first day I lost three birds from the flock. The next day one came home. The next day was uneventful. This brings us to the day at the cemetery.
Before I go on I want to tell you that I had an odd feeling about this event, but had no clue what it might be. I mentioned this feeling to my father and to my wife, other than that, it was one of them feelings you stay quiet about lest someone thinks you are nuts. Nonetheless, it still weighed on my mind. This is not the first time that strange feeling was felt concerning a funeral. When my Grandmother died in 1986 the family had several discussions on the feeling that she had never passed over. We felt it may have had something to do with her concern for my grandfathers well being after she was gone. But then there are those crazy thoughts again!
Now I am going to do my best to describe to you exactly the sequence of the chain of events that took place at the grave that day. I have explained this to people several times in person and in writing, but can never capture the feeling that was in the air. At the closing prayer I left the grave and went to release the 6 birds that were in the box a distance from the grave. This release was designed to be at the same moment as the single bird was to be released at the grave. (The idea was that as the one bird rose into the air, the 6 birds would swing by and it would join them and they would fly off. I think you get the picture there.) On my way to the box with the birds in it, I felt a strong static in the air. I passed it off as being nervous, but I didn't know why. As I sat and waited for the bird at the grave site to be released, I noticed I was having trouble concentrating, I remember thinking to myself that I was going to have to pay attention or I was going to miss the moment! Finally the bird went up and I was able to get the door open so the six took to the air. I watched the six closely as I wanted them to perform flawlessly. I then glanced over to the single bird, as it was raising to join the flock. Then from the corner of my eye there was another single bird! It joined the first single bird and the two together joined the flock. I made a quick count, not one but three times. There were eight birds in the air! I wanted to shout to the people to count the birds, but the static in the air was so powerful at that time I couldn't even stand. At that moment I heard my mother shouting, There's EIGHT, there's EIGHT!!! There goes my mom with my dad!! All of this was in slow motion for me and everything seemed at a distance. I felt such power around me that I could do nothing but drop my head and pray! I will admit that I don't do that very often, but I felt that praying was all that was left for me to do. The power that had been displayed before me was incredible, and in fact had drained me of my strength at the moment.
Within moments after the birds had cleared the air returned to normal, I could feel no static at all. I rose to my feet and started toward the grave to join the rest of my family. I could barely feel my feet touching the ground as I walked. I felt like I had just seen the hand of God. When I got there, the people were already beginning to leave the grave. They were laughing and crying at the same time. It was like a large load had been lifted from their shoulders. It appeared to me that they had just witnessed a reunion instead of a funeral. The Funeral Director was shocked, he was not expecting the joy which the people felt as they left the grave. The minister kept saying he had never seen anything like it.
The family gathered at my mothers house for a dinner after the services. For a short time nobody said much, as if in denial of the event. Gradually people began to speak. At first the questions were directed at me about the birds and their behavior. But I just sat quietly and explained I had no answer. Finally the discussion of my grandmother came up as well. I found out that most of the family had felt she had never passed over. Not only that, but for the first time I heard people talk about feeling her presence at the grave. I never had a clue that anyone else had felt this.
It took me the better part of a week to get over the "floating" feeling that I left the grave with that day. My concentration was gone for almost 3 days following. I returned to the grave site two days later to see if I could learn more of what had happened, I found no explanation.
Although this seems like an unlikely time to have a story about white birds, the circumstances warrant this story. It was my grandfathers funeral, and as a last minute thought I volunteered to release white birds at the grave. My mother was in favor, and wanted one at the grave and 6 released in the distance. Since it was February, I had the birds locked up because in the winter predation is hard on the flock. I immediately started training the birds to get them ready. Since the cemetery was only a mile away it was no big deal to the birds. For some reason the first day I lost three birds from the flock. The next day one came home. The next day was uneventful. This brings us to the day at the cemetery.