Something got into my hen house and got one of my favorite girls. Not that it wouldn’t have been shocking at any level but I am not sure I would have been as shocked if it got my mean rooster. She was a beautiful white silkie and had an amazing temperament. She was also funny to watch, one of the first hens I got. Still ill, it is a struggle to walk out through the yard to feed them, overwhelmingly tiring and when I saw the feathers everywhere, I froze. Soft white feathers some covered in blood were scattered across the ground. Exhausted and overwhelmed with emotions I sat down among them.
As the tears started to flow I was so aware of how much I had enjoyed her, the comical run through the yard and the chatter for a treat. I soon realized they were not just for her but for so much more. The persistent memory of a dear friend lost to breast cancer which has filled my thoughts. While I try to honor her memory, at times I feel the pain for those she left behind. I cried for the loss of a twenty-something dream of the white picket fence and happily ever after and that loss idealistic dreamer part of my soul that was filled with hope. I wept for the guilt I will always carry for my children; the choices I made in their interest, the fact they may grow up without knowing what a healthy loving relationship looks like, the unknown scars they will carry forward in life, the fact I cannot always protect them no matter my efforts. Sitting there crying among the carnage, I realized the value of all that was lost. As I mourned so much I let go of another layer of grief, releasing it to the earth rising with a strength to face another day.
“When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.” ~Khalil Gibran