My Nighttime Guest

Sunday is family day at my house. And, this Sunday, as usual, my children and their families gathered to see what wonderful (?) meal I had prepared for them. I often use them as guinea pigs, as I try out recipes found on Facebook. Some are good, some not so good, but the real event is to just share this time together.

When I cook, my OCD comes out, and I must clean all cooking pots, pans and anything used in the preparation of the meal, as I finish with them. It is not until everyone leaves that I finish the dishes. Let me say that each diner rinses his or her plate, etc. which makes the final clean-up easy. Today, as I filled the dishwasher and hand washed a few large bowls, a memory popped into my head. I had not thought about it for years, but there it was, as though it was yesterday.

We built our house in 1971 when dishwashers were not the norm, as they are today. We did not opt for the expense of one, but did structure the kitchen for an easy installation later. I really enjoyed washing dishes. I found it relaxing, and got great satisfaction in seeing an immediate result of my labor. While I cleaned the kitchen, my husband entertained our two young children and I was left alone with my work. For a stay at home mother, these quiet times are priceless, just me and my thoughts and dreams. I loved it. It was in this place and time that I first met my nightly visitor.

Standing at my sink washing dishes, I heard a strange sound that resembled a human voice. With the lights on in the house, I could not see into the dark to decide if something was near my window. Now, I must tell you that my house was two stories in the back, so my window was rather high up. But, whoever or whatever it was sounded like it was standing at my window. As I strained to peer into the darkness, I was met with a pair of huge eyes just outside the window. As you can imagine, I was horrified and went running to my husband to have him investigate the owner of the eyes and voice. He tried to assure me that giants did not exist and short of someone dragging a ladder to the window, it was not human. I was not assured and he proceeded to the kitchen to investigate. There was nothing there… no eyes… no voice. So, back to his entertainment he went, and back to the dishes I went. I was almost finished when I looked up and was met with staring eyes once again. This time, I let out a curdling scream that immediately brought my husband to my side. Now, he saw the eyes. He laughed and informed me that my visitor was an owl. I must say, I had never seen an owl up close and personal like that.

I welcomed the night creature into my life that night and we became friends. He visited me often, for years, and we enjoyed some great conversations. He was a great listener, and I missed him when he no longer appeared at my window. I had not thought about him for years, until today. What a great memory!