I was scrolling through the channels last night and came upon a nature show about hummingbirds.

Immediately I began to wail. Then I called my mommy.

My father loved hummingbirds. He was fascinated by them, in fact. This big, former pro football playing rough and tough oil man would almost “squeee” when the first hummingbirds of the season arrived. If I wasn’t there to share the moment with him, I would receive a phone call, hearing my father’s voice saying excitedly “Hummers at the feeder!!”.

Each spring he would make sure his feeders were out earlier than usual, and always left them out well past the last tiny bird’s departure. He made their nectar by the gallon, and always wanted to be sure he had plenty. After one summer where 3 feeders attracted about 40 birds and resulted in a mid-day trip to buy sugar, he was never unprepared for them again. I have pictures of that summer on those old things called floppy-discs somewhere …. I plan to find them before the next ones return. He also carried on my grandparent’s legacy of a green thumb, our yard teeming each spring with mandevilla, hibiscus, and all manner of flowering plants.

My dad even got Gregory into the excitement …. we had feeders at our spot on the lake, and here at home. G always insisted on putting the just made nectar into the freezer so it would cool quickly for the little guys. And so many moments were spent watching them while we were in the pool, hearing them buzz over our heads as they went from the feeders to the canna’s then off to the hibiscus plants scattered around my parents yard. My father’s voice would drop almost to a whisper if one rested in the plants or on the railing nearby…. “Look, he’s watching us.”

My dad always had questions about them … where did they live ? What was their path to and from our home ? We would read books and catch occasional magazine articles about these beautiful, fascinating little creatures, but they essentially remained a mystery for us to enjoy together. Many a happy hour and great conversation occurred while we sat out on the patio watching them flit around us.

As I go about my day, images and memories of my dad flit around in my mind. They feed my memories and my love for the man that I miss so very much in the three weeks he has been gone.

This spring, I’ll be ready for the first scouts to arrive …. and no matter where I am, I’m gonna tell my daddy that there’s a hummer at the feeder, and I’ll know he’s still with me.