Sometimes I think that my love of all things vintage is really just a method of trying to recapture the past - those elusive figures who came before us, but who we never truly knew...such as my mysterious great-grandmother, I suppose. If we can hold tight to those individuals, then they will always be with us, even after the memories fade and we forget about the moments we have lived but lost in the sheer number of moments that make up a life. In a way, my greatest fear is to forget...to forget even a single precious moment of time, because it dishonors those I have shared it with. And why does the passing of friends bring about those forgotten moments? Why do I remember these snippets of time when I can no longer share them with the friend they contain? We have lost so many beloved original animals this month, and we are on the very of losing another. As a farmer, I know that life and death are intertwined, and I am intimately acquainted with both. From helping to bring a baby goat into the world, to slaughtering a turkey for food, my husband and I have both held life in our hands - whether as a beginning or an end. And yet, experiencing this, knowing this circle, why is it so difficult to say goodbye? Losing some of the original animals we obtained when we first moved here and started the farm has been heartbreaking. It's like being a long-lived senior and watching all of your friends pass away before you. It's like watching a farm grow up and lose its childhood forever. It's the passing away of memories, and the passing away of innocence. Life has never been easy, and friendships formed to help share its burden are just as strong whether they are with a furry soul or non. It just never seems fair.
I think the hardest part of all is saying goodbye...
No comments:
Post a Comment