A roadside encounter becomes a Field of Dreams cardinal moment
Popology Lessons by Kris Fisher
A ‘Cardinal Experience’ in literature often refers to a cardinal bird that appears unexpectedly after the loss of someone special or significant. It is considered to be the spirit of that loved one stopping by in moments of grief, loss, or in need of guidance.
Think John Kinsella visiting his son in “Field of Dreams,” but in bird form.
I’m not a huge believer in things like this. I don’t necessarily think it’s not real, I just don’t put a lot of value into it. However, sometimes life gives me a reason to believe.
Last weekend, I randomly saw a cardinal underneath my carport. It didn’t strike me as too odd, outside of the fact I don’t often see birds under there and this cardinal was about the brightest red I had ever seen. The moment entered and left my brain in a flash, and I went about my day.
That was the cardinal, now for the experience.
Later that day, I decided to go on an adventure. I had a little extra time, so I took my dogs a different route on our walk. Our adventure route took us down one of Augusta’s busier highways, so there was a bit of traffic. Still, there was ample sidewalk space, and I managed to stay well off the road.
However, as I walked past my favorite Casa de Waffles, I heard a not-so-subtle ‘HONK’ as a car pulled in behind me. I live in an area with a not-so-great reputation, so I wondered why someone would randomly pull in behind me, honking their horn.
I quickly turned my head and just as quickly, my scowl turned into surprise as my brain instinctively thought – Mom?
I was hit with a rush of emotions. We lost my mother to cancer in 2022. But the silhouette with medium length hair, silver and stringy looked way too familiar.
The woman pulled up in a 90s-era station wagon. Not in great shape, not in bad shape, it was a mostly inconspicuous vehicle, much like mom would drive. As the woman started talking, I noticed her mannerisms and general appearance was eerily similar to my mom’s.
Maybe “HONK” was my version of “If You Build It, He Will Come.”
She talked to me like we had known each other for years. She explained that she saw me walking with my dogs and had been overcome with emotion as she had unexpectedly lost her dog the week before. I could hardly get a word in as she told me about her beloved little dog, Baby.
Wait. What?
My mom’s dog was named Baby. This was getting weird.
She continued talking about her own mom’s dog, a little chihuahua that stuck by her mother’s side as she reached the end of her life.
Now things were really getting weird. My mom’s dog was a little chihuahua.
She continued sharing stories with me, a stranger she saw on the side of the highway, walking his dogs. She finished the conversation by reaching into a bank envelope stuffed with crisp bills.
“I want to give you something to get your sweet dogs some treats.” she said.
I thanked her and told her that it wasn’t necessary, adding that I live just up the street, in case she had mistaken me for one of the residentially impaired citizens in our area. She insisted and, remembering how my mom would feel when she had the opportunity to be kind, I accepted. I thanked her several times over and we each went our own way.
I still don’t quite know what to think of the encounter. We didn’t play catch on a baseball field once covered in corn, but maybe it was Mom saying hello. Maybe it was Mom telling me everything’s going to be fine. Maybe it was Mom telling me that I’m not feeding my dogs enough.
Maybe it was just someone being kind, wanting to brighten both of our days. She did, far more than she knows. I do miss my mom and that woman’s spontaneous kindness made me feel a little closer to her.