Three Little Birds

It’s a song written by Bob Marley.

In one of our lengthy telephone conversations years ago, Katie and I decided that we both really liked that song. 

Katie’s profession and mine were very different. However, with the differences, we discovered many similarities. One such similar thing was we both spent hours in the car getting from one client to another. It was in these lengthy driving phone conversations, that my daughter and I stayed connected. She in Philly., me in North Eastern Ohio. We would talk about many things. One of the triggers for a phone call from one of us to the other was if that song came on the radio. Whenever that would happen, we would call each other and sing that song at the top of our lungs.

“Don’t worry, bout a ting, cause every ‘lil ting gonna be all right….”

I had one of these conversations with her the day before she died. I had called earlier during the day to discuss the will I had just made and mailed to her. I left a message and later she called back. We talked about everything concerning my will, my death, her life, her death, all of it. It was a good talk, not sad or depressing. We both agreed that the goofy song we shared was going to be featured at my funeral.

“Rise up ‘dis morning, smile with the rising sun…….”

Katie died the next day.

In all of the horror now thrust upon her mother, her brother and me over the next week, one of the discussions was about what music to play at her funeral service. It was then that I explained to her mother and brother about this song and our conversations. Shock and disbelief at the events were momentarily overshadowed by my confession of our previous day’s conversation. (No reasonable person would believe that this could have happened.) 

The next day my will arrived in Katie’s mailbox. My son Tim got the mail, and handed me the package that I had mailed just days before.

“Three little birds, sit by my doorstep…”

The first memorial service for Katie was in Ohio about a week ago. It took everything I had to get through it. Wonderful people said amazing things about Katie’s life. Katie was amazing, and all of us knew it. At the end of the service they played “Three Little Birds”. After the service I was sitting with my brother Clif. I mentioned to him that while the song was playing I kept hearing someone singing along and in a moment of shock I realized that it was me.

“Singing sweet songs, a melody pure and true…”

The second memorial occurred recently in Philadelphia. Again, beautiful wonderful people talking about my amazing daughter. I had made plans to leave Philly after the memorial and drive to the Outer Banks of N.C. for a few days, to spend some time at the ocean and to cast Katie’s ashes in the sea as she and I had discussed.

“This is my message to you…”

I got up yesterday before sunup to see what the circumstance would be for me. I really didn’t want anyone around when I did this. I discovered that there were only a few people out to watch the sun come up. I made my decision to do it today (Tuesday 3 June 2014).

“Don’t worry, bout ting, cause every ‘lil ting gonna be all right…”

I got up at 5:00. I knew sunrise was not till 5:45. Nobody was out yet. I took the little mason jar with her ashes in it with me and started walking across the beach towards the water.

 The serf was much calmer than it had been in the last couple of days. Large rollers breaking about 50 yards out. Shooting beautiful spray off the tops of the waves as they broke. Although the sun was not yet over the horizon there was enough color in the sky to make the wave spray amazing shades of red and orange.

“Rise up ‘dis morning, smile with the rising sun…”

I started singing our song as I walked the distance across the beach to the water’s edge. It must have been an awful sound but the ocean covered up my voice pretty quickly. I was having trouble seeing as I was sobbing and crying, and trying to sing all at the same time.

 In no time at all (too quickly in fact) my feet were in the water. Icy cold. I walked a little further until I got past the point where the rumble and grumble of the dying waves were finishing their lives. I talked to my beautiful daughter for a few moments. I told her about my days since her death. I told her about how much I loved her and how I had no idea how I was going to get past this. I told her how incredibly sorry I was for everything that had happened to her. I asked her to forgive me for not being a very good father. I told her how so very proud I was of her.

“Three ‘lil birds sit by my door step…”

I opened the lid and gently poured what remained of my Katie Ann in a circle around me. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. Standing there watching the ocean accept my daughter and seeing her ashes disappear into the surf. I noticed the wave spray again. Wiping my eyes, I watched as the waves rolled over themselves, and the beauty of the back-lit spray as the waves crashed in front of me while the sun began to crest the horizon.

 With nothing else to say, and nothing else to do, I decided against just swimming out and never looking back. As I thought about turning around to begin the rest of my life without my daughter, a flight of three pelicans silently glided by in front of the now breaking wave. I smiled. I cried more, but I smiled.

“Singing sweet songs, a melody pure and true…”

Goodbye Katie, daddy loves you.

“This is my message to you.” 

— with Katie Choate at OBX.