For some reason, this reminded me of something that happened shortly after I moved to Tampa, Fla., in 1999. The apartment complex we lived in had a small “lake” (more like a pond, if you ask me), which attracted quite a few ducks.
One weekend, as my husband and I left for ride to the beach, I saw a mated pair of mallards under a bush. The female was dead and the male kept trying to “wake her up” by lifting her neck with his beak.
It was the most poignant thing I had ever seen. That simple action conveyed such a strong emotion to me. I couldn’t stop crying for hours. Which, of course, pissed off my husband.
“It’s just a duck,” he’d say.
I tried to communicate that it wasn’t he death of a duck that moved me so. It was the grief and sorrow of its mate. Thinking about it now brings that all-familiar lump to my throat.
For days, I re-lived that moment. It broke my heart to think that this mallard would be alone for the rest of its life, for I was under the impression that ducks mate for life. Upon further research, however, I discovered that although that is pretty much the case, if a duck looses its mate, it can seek out a new one. That made me feel a little better.