Strange stories that make no sense, or do they?

My wise and respected grandfather told many strange, nonsensical stories. He said, “Someday you’ll understand my words, and they may not mean the same to you.” He made me think, and I credit him for my success. A proper father can make a difference.

The story I recalled this past week was:

This beautiful bluebird once had babies in the early part of winter.  The chicks were warm and all bundled together in the nest.  But one young chick was restless and wanted to enter the world early.  He flapped, shook, and did everything he could but could not fly.  He needed to be developed more.  One day, he moved just enough to fall out of the nest and dropped over 50 feet to the ground, which was cold from the snow.  He lay there freezing and did not know what to do, so he kept chirping as loud as possible.

Soon, up came the massive bull.  He looked at the bird and slowly positioned himself over the bird.  The bird thought he was going to be crushed.  Although the bull did not step on him, he just pooped on him.  The substantial warm pile of poop saved the bird from freezing.  The Bird was disgusted by the smell and being covered in poop and continued to make as much erratic noise as he could.  Then, up comes a wolf.  The wolf digs the bird out of the poop and uses the snow to clean it up a little.  Then, without hesitation, the wolf swallowed the bird and swallowed him whole.

I initially found this story unsettling when he shared it with me when I was about nine years old, and I’ve had similar feelings afterward. I always interpreted the moral as being prepared for life’s challenges. However, I’ve been enduring a particularly difficult five weeks, marked by excruciating pain, the recurrence of an infection that severely affects my balance, and debilitating headaches. I’ve exerted every ounce of mental strength to endure the pain and make it through each day. At night, I’m forced to wake up every few hours (or even sleep sitting up) to alleviate the pain. It seems that the medication has proven ineffective.

I woke up around 3:00 AM this morning, and my head was pounding. For some reason, I recalled the story my grandfather, which I mentioned above. As I thought about the story, I discovered two new moral lessons within it.

• The first thought was that in life, those people who throw shit on you are not always trying to hurt you (Cow shit kept the bird warm). Inasmuch, those who pull you out of a jam are not always trying to help you (wolf cleaned the bird up for lunch).
• A second moral could be when you are up to your nose in shit, keep your mouth shut!

So, I will not complain about the health issue too loudly. And Grandpa, if you happen to be reading blogs in heaven, you were already gone before I even started to get the hang of your stories. But honestly, I wouldn’t be the person I am today—the good parts, anyway—or who I am without you. You were truly the greatest, and you’re deeply missed, especially those stories that were a bit of a mystery to me when I was a kid.

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!