A Father’s Day Tribute to my Dad ~ The Flight of the Pheasant

“A child looks up at the stars and wonders. Great fathers put a child on his shoulders and helps them to grab a star.”

~ Reed Markham

My dad passed away suddenly of a heart attack in April of 2012.  The news was devastating. The previous evening, my siblings had played their weekly card game with him long distance on a Zoom call. He seemed to be doing well and, as usual, won the game. I wish I had been in on that last hand.

A few days later, I dreamt about him joking and laughing.  He had always been a jokester, and it was wonderful to see him that way again, as the last few years of his life had been difficult. The previous year my Dad's wife, Donna's dementia worsened, requiring her to be moved to a nursing home. Dad had sold their former home and moved into an apartment, still independent at the age of eighty-five.

On a day soon after that, my husband Rod mentioned he had seen a male pheasant on our farm. This was remarkable because pheasants are very rare in these parts. In the twelve years we had lived on the farm, we had heard a single male pheasant crow occasionally but never seen one.

The next day, I asked my dad for a sign from his spirit. That evening, Rod and I were going to dinner, and we got in the car and sat in the driveway for a few moments, talking. I was remarking about Dad’s upcoming memorial.  I was talking about wishing the family could have gathered together in a reunion with him, rather than a memorial without him.

As Rod started the car and we turned out of the driveway, the pheasant suddenly appeared, gliding with wings outstretched, about 8 feet above the ground directly in front of our car.  He crossed from our neighbor’s yard over their high wire fence, into our pasture, where he landed and proceeded to feed. The vision of him in flight was stunning, with the light of the setting sun illuminating his wings and his long, beautiful tail.  The timing of the conversation and the appearance of the pheasant were clear signs to me, and I realized with a smile that Dad would be there at his memorial to witness us all celebrating his life. His spirit was in the flight of the pheasant and in the light through his beautiful wings.

In 2016, I received another confirmation of messages from Spirit. Since that first sighting of the pheasant, we had only rarely seen the male during those years. I often remarked I wished he could find a mate. Dad's wife's health was failing, and then one morning in May, I saw a large bird under the bird feeder and realized with surprise it was a female pheasant. I was so pleased that there was now a female in our neighborhood.

Later that same morning, I received the news that Donna had passed away.  I knew then that the message from the pheasant was from her. I emailed Donna’s son, Bill, and his wife, Anne, to share the story of the pheasant.  Anne wrote back with the following note:

Dear Kim

I loved hearing about the pheasants in the lovely card you sent. When I looked at the picture just now, I recalled that yesterday morning, shortly after Donna passed (but before I knew that she had), I was teaching my 1st graders how to spell words with “ph” in them. We spent a great deal of time on the word “pheasant”, and we were all drawing pheasants on our whiteboards. 30 first graders drawing pheasants. Yesterday morning, around 10:00 am. Wow.

Our female pheasant Phryne (after molting her tail feathers)

She continued to visit for many months

---

In addition to my dad being a talented and innovative businessman, my dad took pleasure in being a photographer and videographer. His skill went beyond home movies and also encompassed landscapes. When I was little my dad enjoyed my wit and way with words and used my slogans for his business advertising. I know that my love of photography, film, and doing PR was informed by my dad’s support of my talents. He took me to riding lessons, and listened to me ramble on about wanting to have a farm someday.

Kim learning photography 1974

Kim taking riding lessons 1974

On this Father's Day I'd like to share a letter I wrote to my dad's spirit after he passed.

Dear Dad,

Thank you for helping me to discover who I was in so many ways. Thank you for patiently showing me the ways around challenges, and for taking the brunt of my moods when my expectations surpassed my abilities. You taught me to keep a light heart and not take myself so seriously, even while at the same time, you held yourself by a different standard.

You chronicled my past so I could look back upon it in the future, and understand some of the pieces of my own puzzle. You picked me up off the ground when I fell off life’s horses, and you hid your own concern while I told you how scared I had been.

You once told me a story that when I was eight years old we went riding off into the desert on rental horses, and when we found a creek you turned away for a moment, and when you turned back, I had gotten off my horse and I was giving it some grass and offering it a drink of water. You were frozen with indecision. You knew it might not be safe for me, a novice horse girl, to be on the ground near a strange horse in the desert far from help should anything go awry. But you also knew there was nothing you could do. So, like a father who watches his daughter ride off on her first bicycle, you held your breath, as I blithely experienced my first innocent and happy moments with a horse in nature.

You engendered my love of nature, photography, and teaching. You encouraged me to pursue my dreams, and you told me I could achieve anything I set my mind to.

I lost our connection for awhile, but then I found you again, and discovered you were there, all along.

                                           I love you,

                                                        Kim

Teaching the Steps of the Dance 1974

Jim and Kim 2003

Dad meeting Darma for the first time in 2009