On the opening day of Complex’s new headquarters in L.A., I showed up early to settle in to the office, located on the second floor of a plaza in West Hollywood. But the doors were still locked, and with hours to go before anyone would arrive, I went to a nearby balcony to check out the street below.
That’s when I saw a pigeon flapping its wings violently and appearing to have a seizure at the steps of the building’s entrance. I watched from above as passersby gawked in disgust at the animal, until a custodian came to the rescue and retrieved the bird from the ground with his hands.
I remember thinking how kind it was that he came to help the bird, until I saw him a few moments later empty-handed with the pigeon nowhere to be found. After walking down a long corridor to a deserted smoking area, I found the bird facedown on the ground, still flapping its wings. I rang local animal hospitals for help, and the only one that answered said they‘d send someone and would call me when they arrived.
I stayed with the bird in this lonely corner of the building for the next hour until the shaking and flapping stopped, and it never moved again. I sat down, sad that I had watched this animal die in such a manner.
When I returned home later that night, my mom asked about the day, expecting to hear about my new coworkers and any articles I might have written. Instead, on the verge of tears, I told her about the bird.
She would point out that the hospital was likely never going to send anyone out for a pigeon (they never did call me back). She also assured me that I had a good heart for trying to do something. Still, I had no idea why something so inconsequential had affected me so strongly.
That was in 2014, and a few months later, my grandmother passed away. A year after that, mom was diagnosed with cancer.
I still think about that morning, trying to find some meaning in it.
But some things don’t have to be overly complicated, and are instead as simple as sitting by someone’s side — especially when things are dire and you don’t know how they’ll turn out — and showing them they are not alone.