Memories of a Feathered Friend

Every time I see a parrot, my mind flashes back to another place and another time.

A bittersweet feeling comes over me, filling my heart, and then come the tears.

We were living far away in San Salvador, the capital of El Salvador, Central America. A newlywed, I still missed my family, country, and the American culture. Anyone who has ever lived in a different country knows that culture shock is real. The person living in a foreign land begins to miss "comfort bits," or all things familiar.

Having a foreign living experience can be very gratifying. One gets to learn, first hand, about another culture. Everything is done differently than one is accustomed. There are new places to go and towns to visit. The food can be unique and shopping in bustling, colorful outdoor markets is quite an experience.

However, living in a strange place can also be very challenging and difficult. The native language is no longer one's own. Customs are totally different and sometimes it's easy to feel like an outsider.

To keep me company in El Salvador, I bought a parrot. His feathers were a gorgeous shade of green. He loved coming out of his cage to take over our household. He needed a unique name to set him apart from other parrots. My father's ethnic background was Lithuanian and "Perkunas" happened to be the name of a Lithuanian thunder god. Perfect!

So my parrot's name became "Perkunas." He turned out to be a very friendly bird. He chattered non-stop but after awhile, some of the chatter actually turned into words. It was thrilling in the way a parent hears her baby speak her first words.

"Hallo, hallo" coming from the beak of my sweet parrot made me smile every day. "Hallo Perkunas," I would say back. "How is my baby bird today?" He'd flutter his wings and cock his head to one side, turning into quite the ham. He enjoyed spending time on a sunny perch on our outdoor patio. He became a fixture in our home and was very, very loved!

We practiced new words hour after hour and his vocabulary expanded, much to my total delight. I felt like a teacher of elocution. My student was the absolute pizazz.

When ready to return to the States, we planned to take Perkunas with us. I had papers drawn up for him as well as all the veterinary exams completed. However, at the last moment, due to a series of unforeseen circumstances, we were unable to take Perkunas with us.

A Salvadorian woman, Maria, had been living with us full-time, to do most of the cooking and washing of clothes by hand. She agreed to take good care of my parrot.

It was a sad day in my life when I had to say goodbye to Perkunas. He nibbled a hole right into my heart. I couldn't bear to look back when we left our house for the very last time.

Since then, I've never had another parrot. Once is enough because there will just never be another Perkunas. After a couple of letters, Maria stopped writing and was never heard from again.

You know how they say memories are like roses in December? For me, they are more like a totally sweet parrot in the tropics!

HAVE YOU EVER LOST A BELOVED PET?