For the Birds

FOR THE BIRDS

2020 Smith, Lynn Rilean

“They, my parents, did what?” I asked.

We do so solemnly swear this Last Will and Testament leaves everything we have to the birds.

Mind spinning. 

This can’t be happening. It’s a joke right?

I thought for a moment that maybe they were filming a new episode of punk’d or impractical jokers. I was the star of the show.

Being an only child has its pros and cons. That’s where I come in.

Me. I’m the only child.

I spent years overlooking that my parent’s bought love and that my needs were typically met with the almighty dollar.

I found for myself personally that the end result of a love like that would only destroy me later in life. Literally. You will read of how easy it is to go from a million dollars, to a million pieces through this short story.

Separated from my parents over foolish pride, I needed to go back home.

Not sure exactly why the pull was so strong, but it was. I’m hesitant but know that it is necessary. I hope it will put us on the path to rekindle and add what was always missing.

That mother, father, daughter bond thing. Something money can’t buy.

Sure it was cool to spend and not worry about one single financial thing. In fact, really cool. Until it wasn’t. Cool actually smacked me in the face, and left me bruised and burned. I was good at wrecking cars and airbags always seemed to get in my way. Today I can thank God for that.

Speaking of airbags, as I crash my corvette into the garage door of my childhood home driven by anxiety. 

Someone take the keys because I can’t even park a car. Nervous and terrified to see them face to face again.

I made it though. I stepped out of the car that barely showed a scratch, we won’t tell anyone about the garage door. 

I’m really surprised no alarms went off. “Why aren’t the dog’s barking?” I wondered as I take the long sidewalk to the front door.

Anxious does not even begin to describe the way I’m feeling right now. I want to throw up.

Are they going to slide a check under the door or actually invite me in?

Will they be in a hurry for me to leave; afraid of more disappointment from their tarnished golden child?

If only they will let me in, I can explain.

All the chaos that once came with me is gone. Okay so maybe I still need to work on proper drive way etiquette but other then that, I took a turn somewhere and it showed me the true meaning of life.

Money can buy a lot of things, but it can not fix what’s broken from the inside out unless you’re referring to liposuction.

Long story short, I was a wild child who bought and paid for everything from money I didn’t have to earn.

I ended up alone, and clinging to life with the help of a ventilator. I had burnt all my bridges. A million dollars turned into a million pieces of a broken heart.

Recovering from an overdose has this strange way of connecting you with the right people. I found myself surrounded by individuals from all walks of life, and they guided me to a path that ultimately turned my life around.

My parent’s even did the research to try and understand why I, “turned out the way I did,“ having anything money could buy.

We raised her better then that. She had everything going for her, they said on many occasions. 

Except I didn’t. The only thing I had going for me was a fat bank account bought for from mommy and daddy dearest and love meant money, until not even money was enough to live for.

This is interesting, I thought. A for sale sign placed at the end of the driveway. “Where are they going?” I wonder.

By now you get the picture I’ve painted, and that I have every intention of telling my parents I love them, have missed them, and that I would enjoy getting to know them personally.

I will always love and be grateful for the nannies but I’ve missed Mom and Dad, my whole life. The bank account was fun but now it isn’t what matters to me most. Money was lonely. 

I push the door bell. Palms sweaty, knees weak. I am shocked as the doorbell starts singing to me.

“Don’t you want somebody to love” by Jefferson Airplane.

Hello. Who are you, and what have you done with my parent’s?

I smell patchouli mixed with body odor as the door cracks open. No face to go with the hand.

I’m given a piece of paper.

It’s a living will and last testament.

Clearly my parent’s have lost their minds.

I, Anna Doe, and I, Wayne Doe, both being of at least 18 years of age, do hereby make this our Last Will and Testament. Revoking all prior Wills and Codicils heretofore made by us.

We have spent our fortune on a nude beach where we plan to live off the land. We now have only one dollar left to our name. We would like to give that last dollar to The Bird Watchers foundation of America.

We would also like it to be known from this document that it is realized we can’t take life for granted, and to all of you we bought and paid for, we apologize.

If our daughter shows up and asks where we are, this document is to be given to her as an apology for all the years we missed out on her life and didn’t get to know her. We waited by the phone as long as we could.

Let said document guide her to the valley of peace, love and forgiveness. Where we will be waiting to welcome her with loving arms.

May she be humbled and proud to know we decided to live out the end of our life naked, free and loving Mother Earth.

Dated and Signed,

Mr. and Mrs. Doe

To the birds?, seriously? I suppose now is the appropriate time to say, be careful what you wish for.

My parents.

Nudists?

Living out wanderlust?

What’s love got to do with it?

This story took a turn, not even I saw coming.

I feared more rejection and some cash and I got news they bought a nude beach and left the last dollar to the birds.

Did they at least leave a forwarding address for me to find them?

Nothing like the thought of your parents owning a nude beach to get through this thing called life.

Naked or not, I do love my parents.

2020 Smith, Lynn Rilean