Flying Free: Our Beloved Blueberry
September 2019 – January 30, 2025
Blueberry was tiny – just a few ounces of bright blue feathers and boundless energy – but the joy she brought to our family was immeasurable. We chose her from the pet store because our daughter Lily, who was seven at the time, said she had “kind eyes.” Those kind eyes would watch us with intelligence and curiosity for over five wonderful years.
None of us had experience with birds when Blueberry joined our family, and we were surprised by how much personality could fit into such a small package. She had specific chirps for different situations – one for morning greetings, another when she wanted attention, and a special excited trill when we brought out fresh vegetables for her to enjoy.
Blueberry quickly learned to step onto our fingers and ride on our shoulders. She loved to explore the tops of bookshelves and picture frames when we let her out for supervised flying time. Her favorite perch was next to the kitchen window where she could watch the outdoor birds and chatter to them through the glass.
Our little blue friend was remarkably intelligent. She learned to ring a small bell when she wanted fresh water and would mimic the sound of our phone notifications so convincingly that we’d check our devices. She never mastered speaking words, but her musical repertoire included the first few notes of “Happy Birthday” (which she seemed to perform on request) and an impressive recreation of our microwave beep.
Lily formed a special bond with Blueberry, reading homework out loud to the attentive bird and creating small obstacle courses out of straws and popsicle sticks for her to navigate. On days when Lily felt sad or overwhelmed with school pressures, sitting quietly with Blueberry on her finger brought comfort that we as parents couldn’t always provide.
When Blueberry became ill, we were surprised by the depth of our concern for this tiny creature who had become such an important part of our daily lives. The veterinarian did her best, but explained that birds often hide their illness until it’s advanced. We brought Blueberry home for her final days, making her as comfortable as possible in the sunny spot she loved.
On her last morning, she rallied enough strength to sing one last beautiful melody before passing peacefully with Lily gently stroking her feathers. Through tears, our daughter said, “She’s flying free now,” which felt like the perfect tribute to our spirited little friend.
Thank you, Blueberry, for teaching us that love isn’t measured by size but by the joy shared. Our home is quieter without your morning chirps and the gentle flutter of your wings, but the memories of your bright spirit continue to sing in our hearts. The parakeet-shaped space you left in our family will never be filled, but we’re grateful for every moment you shared with us. Fly high, sweet Blueberry.