Adam Dzialo

Adam Dzialo
Our son, Adam Dzialo, age 30

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

The Hawk, The Messenger, The New Life..

         When the anniversary of Adam’s accident nears, we tend to review some of the most significant events, the moments in time when “meaning and clarity” appear.  Prior to this last anniversary my wife found  herself  at a multi-cultural street fair, looking for a smudge stick to clear the house and our life of any lingering negative energy.  She wandered among the vendors and was drawn immediately to one table.   A beautiful photo of a hawk stood right before her.   It “called to her” so she purchased it and then had a wonderful conversation with the artist.  The artist offered to make a small medallion of this same hawk – a necklace for Adam! 
         So, why the hawk?   Hawks have been in our life on a fairly regular basis since the time when Terri, our loving clairvoyant guide, entered our life.  I have included an excerpt from Sharon’s book CERAMIC  TO CLAY which Terri graciously wrote for us.  It will help you understand why the hawk is such a significant and magnificent creature in our life:

          The light on the phone machine blinked with an urgency, red flash against shiny plastic black. I couldn’t ignore it. I didn’t. I picked up the message from a client needing to speak to me right away about a young boy who had been injured in a terrible accident. I called her back. I listened with the ears of my heart, scanning every word she spoke as she described what had happened to Adam, and no, I had not heard of the story, and yes, I would consider it, and I told her it would take four days of prayer and contemplation to decide if I should take on this case.


           So, the prayer and contemplation for Adam began. Each morning I would meditate and ask if it was correct to take on this case. Each morning I heard nothing.
            On the morning of the fourth day I left for an appointment in town, annoyed at myself, realizing I had forgotten an umbrella. The rain was heavy at times, and the dirt road that led from my house to the main road was rutted and muddy. As I approached the main road, about four or five yards from the intersection, I saw something on the ground. With a wet, foggy windshield, I wasn’t sure. I stopped and got out. From behind, it looked like an owl, or maybe a hawk, and very dead, wings splayed on packed dirt and stones.  I went back to the car and got some tobacco to make an offering to the spirit of the bird. I crept close and hunkered down, sprinkling the soft grains of tobacco, watching them float to the ground, and as I did, the bird swiveled around with a fierce, fast swoop.  It stood upright and gathered in its wings. We were literally eye-to-eye, and neither of us blinked. I asked from my heart-mind: Are you okay? What happened? How can I help you?
            The bird had a wide-eyed stare with a deep intensity that sent shudders through me. It did not move. I stood. The traffic on the intersecting road was busy. Often, people drove down this county two-lane like a highway, even in this wet weather. I took a few steps toward the road, thinking, What to do?  How to help?  I put out a prayer from the depths of my heart for help. As the rain pelted me, standing a few feet from the bird, I was now scared that if a car tried to turn in, it would flatten the bird. I placed myself immediately at the juncture of the two roads, praying, sometimes out loud, for help. A truck stopped; it was a yellow pickup truck with an MDC sign on the door. A man in a flannel shirt and jeans put a jacket over his head as he made his way to me.
“What we got here?” he asked.
            “Don’t know,” I replied. “I just came upon it a few minutes ago, and didn’t know what to do.” I explained how I had found the bird and how it had moved quickly upright as I approached.
“I’m the raptor rehab specialist from the MDC,” he said as he squatted down and looked intently at the bird.
Our House Hawk in Falmouth
          He stood up and walked around the bird.
          “Well,” he said, “don’t see any blood. And the fact that it has its wings folded up means that they are not broken….It is a juvenile red tail hawk. Must have been on a trial hunt and got its bearings mixed up. You know teenagers are like that. In a heartbeat they can get themselves into situations that are way over their heads….Probably chasing prey and bounced off a windshield.”
He took off his jacket and threw it over the bird.
           “You got time? To do some monitoring?  I mean, can you stay and watch the bird? Make sure it is okay? I will give you my card, and you can call me. It is in shock, and when that wears off it should fly away. If not, well, call me; more serious injuries may have happened.”
He proceeded to move the hooded bird gently to the side of the road and placed it on a branch lying on the roadside weeds, and then he carefully lifted his jacket as he handed me his card and said, “Well, I’m really on another call. Good luck!”
I turned and faced the bird, squatting eye-to-eye again, my feet wide and back rounded as rain rolled down the curve of my spine into puddles on the ground.
            There was something about the eyes. So wide, unearthly in a way that I told myself it must be the shock. So deep those eyes, like it was telling me a story in a language I couldn’t quite grasp.  I trembled, so close to something this wild. The bird did not move.
            After three hours, cramped and stiff, I needed to finally get to town.
            “I’ll be back,” I whispered, “and, well, I hope you aren’t here then.”
            A few hours later, I did return and the bird was gone. A thrill went through my heart.
            The next morning I called the Dzialos and said yes. I would come and meet them.
Back Cover of  "Ceramic to Clay"


  1. This was one of my favorite parts of Sharon's book, and I am happy to read it again. Such an extraordinary story --

  2. I love the hawk just reiterates the presence of the seen and unseen in all of our lives.

  3. Elizabeth: My favorite part was the start of an incredible life experience.

    Pam: Of course, and you are also a big part of that story! Thanks!

  4. Phil,
    I love that the hawk brought Terri into your lives and the story about the artist at the street fair is so perfect. You know how I feel about nature's signs.

  5. Sue, I am also deeply respectful and interested in your messengers including angels...both the worldly and other worldly messengers connect us with Source...what more could we ask?

  6. That's fascinating. What a special symbol for Adam. I am captivated by real life encounters with nature. Makes life so much more interesting.

  7. Thanks, Marcelle..Nature and its messengers are a trustworthy medium of communication to all that we are unable to understand...provides us with that strength to keep moving forward.

  8. Dear Phil,

    I too loved the part in Sharon's book about the Hawk. I adore Adam's pendant I think it's gorgeous.



  9. Thanks, Mel...we're hoping that the new hawk brings some quick transitions so that Adam can again sit comfortably...we're got about 7 weeks to pull off a big change before we're due in Montreal...hope this was a sign of good things.

  10. Perhaps the big miracle has already occurred. Locked eyes with Adam several times on our visit to your home July 31. I felt there is a lot going on in a soul that strikes me as active/energetic like a soaring hawk, yet not restless but rather at peace. But big miracles spawn smaller ones like aftershocks after an earthquake. So pack up warm clothes for the Canadian Fall.

  11. I hope that you have the gift of prophesy, among others. Adam does seem to be getting more comfortable with a lot of ABR work...he got 5 hours a day this week and it seems like parts are shifting in the right direction. We're scheduled for the week of Sept 26 in Montreal and it's strangely warmer there than here that time of year. My fingers are crossed for a few small miracles to spawn.


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