In the little secluded part of the garden next to my office, I hung a
little bird food ball in a tree. I love to watch a robin come and sneak
in, but usually there’s this big blackbird guarding it.
Yesterday, Bart watched the bird enjoy the food, and remarked: ‘I think that must be the spirit of our first baby we lost…’ (If we had had a daughter, we would have called her Merel, the Dutch word for blackbird.)
For a moment I didn’t know what to say.