Skeleton in the Freezer

Occasionally I’ll be reminded of specific memories from years ago. Of course everyone experiences this. Depending on the situation from the past, your memory can bring back a wide range of emotions. I got an email recently from my sister reminding me of a corpse in my parent's freezer. 

In late 1985, my parents bought me a peach-faced lovebird. I aptly named him Pee Wee since Pee Wee’s Big Adventure had recently come out and I had instantly become a huge fan of the character and one-liners in the movie. Pee Wee (the bird) was a great bird. He was tame, loving, and we developed an attachment that I cherished for many years. In 1995, when Pee Wee was ten years old, my dad came into my room one night after I had fallen asleep and woke me up to tell me Pee Wee had suddenly died. My dad, being a bird lover who had had chickens and pigeons throughout his life, was visibly saddened by Pee Wee’s death and I couldn’t help but shed some tears too. 

The next day I couldn’t bear the thought of just routinely digging a hole in the back yard and putting Pee Wee’s little green feathered body in it. So I wrapped him in a piece of purple silk I found in my mother’s sewing room, put him in a zip lock sandwich bag, and put him in the spare freezer, next to the Otter Pops, until I could stomach the thought of a proper burial. 

15 years has gone by.

My sister, who was visiting my parents recently noticed Pee Wee in the freezer and emailed me to tell me he is still there, now conveniently located next to a package of frozen fish sticks. I’m glad. I just can’t bear the thought of putting that little guy in the ground. I feel like I’ve immortalized him at 30 degrees. Maybe I should have my parents pack him in dry ice and send him to me so I can put him in my own freezer. Am I morbid? Or am I just too sentimental? Maybe forgetful? I don’t know what the exact reason is for him still being frozen, above ground. Of course now, the fact that Pee Wee’s been in the freezer for so long is more comical than gross. It’s been so long, I feel like it would be silly to throw away all that time by burying him. I’m sure if I put some effort into it, I can manage to keep him frozen for another 15 years. 

I'm in the library at school writing this and my nostrils are burning from the sour dishrag smell of the feet of a guy at another table who just took his shoes off. Seriously, it's making my nose tingle. He must not be able to smell it. I'm leaving now to seek better air.