Counting on Others

On a whim this evening, I got together with my friend Kim for a delicious Thai dinner at Noi downtown.  As everything is connected, I ask myself, "Was the food so delicious because the conversation was rich and enjoyable?"  Or "Was the diversity and honesty of the conversation born out of fresh, creative food?  To spend too much time inserting the experience into a logical calculation seems to detract from the beauty and simplicity of friendship and sharing.

One topic led to acknowledging the responsibility of having a ranch full of animals dependent upon me.    I make certain choices or pass on certain indulgences because I always want to be on the top of my game should there be something out of the ordinary with the animals.  Ordinary?  Well...

When I got back home it was just after dusk.  I changed from my "dining out" clothes to my "how many times can my jeans be licked, smudged, wiped upon, muddied up or covered in hay" clothes and set out to complete my evening chores.

First on the list, lock in the hens.  The big girls know to go home at dusk and they each have their own spot that they prefer.  The chicklets are still sorting out their place in the pecking order.  Cinnamon was perched up on the top wire of the 5' no climb fence, as she has taken to doing.  Ginger had decided to sink down into a nesting box, although a gender check is in order with this little one.  But where was Spice?

My small flashlight was not sufficient for looking for a reddish/brown hen in the dark.  Back to the house I went and came out armed with my mag light.  I have learned from a previously missing hen to start looking in the surrounding trees.  I did, and there she was, about 5 1/2 feet up in a tree.  She's a very sweet hen and she likes, as I interpret it, to be cuddled.  I gathered her up, wrapped my arms around her, stroked her maturing feathers and brought her inside to join the rest of the flock.  All ten accounted for.  All ten locked in for the night.

Yes, a big thank you to Archangel Ariel, the protector of animals, was in order.  It's a lot of work to care for all of these animals and each of them has moved deep into my heart.  My dedication to them is all about love, both giving and receiving love.  It's a great weight and knowing someone else is looking over my precious charges gives me comfort and relief.

Missing a Friend

It was a card on the windowsill that triggered the lump in my throat.  Memories, emotions and longing hit me at once.  A year and a half later, I miss my friend, Tripper.

I don't think you ever get over the loss of a good friend.  They were your friend because your heart had a place for them to begin with.  They help fill your heart.  They brighten your heart.  And they can break your heart.

Heartache is deep.  It's so deep that time or new memories can't reach it.  A cushion can be made around it, to soften it, but no aspirin is great enough to make it disappear.

Through tears and the pang of loss, we can appreciate having loved a friend so dearly and we can feel fortunate for having that love shared.  It is beautiful, after all.

It's okay to take time to grieve again.  Our relationship with our friend is certainly unique.  They may have other friends, but the bond and connection between two individuals is in fact, individual, only, singular, just one.  That is something that is our treasure, to hold and cherish.

And that is why I think we have eternal heartache.  If it is lost from us, it is truly lost.