Maybe it is my age, or maybe the time of year, but this week has been one filled with the death of way too many deaths. I am sorry, I can not say that someone was "lost", even "passed away" which sounds gentler, but does not fit the sorrow and loss of those left here when someone dies.
My dear precious friend Jeanie sent me a message, her son, Jason had been killed in a car accident. She did not mince words with me. She laid it out plain and simple. The loss of a child, the most brutal of all deaths. This child was 40 when he died, but he will always be Jeanie's sweet precious boy. He had come home not long before and had spent 2 weeks with his family. Jeanie was in heaven to have him back in her arms. He brought joy and laughter and then headed back to where he lived. Shortly after he was gone. Jeanie has the sweetest heart. She has lived many years, quietly graciously living with the death of loved ones who went too early. She is a person filled with joy, love and such sweetness, and she loves people fiercely, with the heart of a lion. My heart breaks with hers.
Dear sweet friends here in Monticello are also dealing with the death of a child. A young woman, mother of two young children, loved by so many who knew here. I only knew her through her father and his wife. Two of the loveliest sweet people on the planet and as they deal with this loss, they must also carry the burden of worrying about their son in law and their grandchildren. They must carry on, and be strong for those around them. It is who they are, and I know their hearts will mend as they hold on to others and help them through this time.
I also received notice on FB this week that one of my dear friends from high school died this past week. She, Susan and I were in gym class together. Debbie didn't have a nick name. Susan was tiny and when she flew over the vaulting box she was like a little bird, hence her nick name. I was nick named frog in that I have a very small body with very loooooooong arms and legs and as I hit the box and went over it I guess everyone thought I looked like a tree frog. I really can't disagree, I still do. Deb, Susan and I were in the band. They had too many flutes and clarinets so they took volunteers to join in the percussion section. Deb played tenor drum, I played the cymbals. She was a year younger then I am.
Do you know how odd it is to watch my friends children, my younger friends from high school dying? I mean I experience the loss like anyone who loved these people, or loved the people who loved them and they died. But I was suppose to die so many times before, and here I live. Living with Stage 4 lung cancer, basically a death sentence, and yet, here I sit, very much alive. When I finish here I will go out and work in the gardens. I am alive. And I am living my life. I try not to be maniac about life and do everything. No, I found that living my life, my life, the life I make up at each moment's choice. I want to experience peace, not just death. I know what it takes to find this peace, all I have to do is do it. Get back in the habit of taking time to do yoga rather then only in tense or physically hard times to stretch, watch my weight placement, balance, and breathe with the movements. Yes, I did learn that yoga is not something you do once a week, it is something you use throughout your day. Unlike algebra, which really I do not use everyday, being respectful of my body as I learned in yoga does help. Imagine how wonderful I would feel if I actually gifted myself with time set aside for just me to do yoga. Yes, I am alive and I do know how to live my life. Deb is gone. I understand from her page that she had a wonderful life, that her son grew up and married. Their is a photo of that wedding day with Deb smiling, glowing with love, joy and happiness.
I called Ms Moon yesterday, it was all just too much, to many people dealing with death. I read Ms Moon's blog, blessourhearts, I know she too has been dealing with the death of loved ones. I started off talking to her about henopause, a term used for chickens when a hen ages past her egg laying production days. Henopause usually starts about 2 years after a hen has her first full production year. Higher egg producing hens usually go into henopause earlier then breeds that are not as egg productive. They are learning about certain types of ovarian cancer with these chickens. Human beings and chickens both get a related type of cancer that no other animal gets that has been found. Because in 5 years they are able to see an entire humans reproductive years in a chicken, they have been able to learn so much and test new chemicals to see if they can effect it in chickens, and maybe relate that to help for humans. Chickens, our friends, our food, our fertilizer. The article also discussed euthanasia for chickens. By allowing hens to grow old and take on the role of teachers and calmers of a flock, you gain so much more for the mere loss of eggs. They still provide entertainment and fertilizer, trust me. But you much be even more observant of your hens as they age to ensure that they do not get ovarian cancer, or one of the other reproductive problems common to hens. Really, did I need to read that yesterday? Yes, because I do not eat the meat of my chickens. I have tried it. Mr. Moon, bless his heart killed and butchered three roosters for me. I ended up with 4 roosters, because two were very late in realizing they were roosters, not hens, or maybe they transgendered, something that certain breed reportedly do. I appreciate what Mr. Moon did, trust me I know how hard that was, even for a hunter. And I don't think I can eat anymore of my chickens. Unknown clean and cut up chicken? Yes, I can do that. Years ago I could not, but I have learned to again, but no my babies. Now that I know what I need to watch for I will be able to be more humane to my wicked chickens. And yes, I will probably pick up half a dozen in the spring to blend into the flock. I am getting as many as three eggs a day once or twice a week, and most days get one egg. But a month ago it was 6 - 9 eggs a day. But it is natural for the chickens to stop laying and molt. All but three have completed their molting. Two of those are laying the eggs. The others look gorgeous, plump, shiny, beautiful new feathers.
After we discussed our chickens, hers are still suffering from the attack earlier this week. Bless their hearts, I do hope that Mr/Ms Moon, Owen and Gibson are able to soothe them and bring them back out share the yard with everyone. We discussed her grandbabies. I love to see the photos and read and hear about these two precious boys. We talked about death, and just as it was getting overwhelming we both stopped and said, that maybe this is one of the joys in life. To meet so many wonderful people. It is also a punishment in life to live long enough to watch them die. I am still here because I have a strong healthy body and a vibrant mind, given to me by my parents and both of those parts of me nurtured into who I am right now.
Alive.
Alive and well.
Heart sick for loved ones who
are missing their loved ones
My dear precious friend Jeanie sent me a message, her son, Jason had been killed in a car accident. She did not mince words with me. She laid it out plain and simple. The loss of a child, the most brutal of all deaths. This child was 40 when he died, but he will always be Jeanie's sweet precious boy. He had come home not long before and had spent 2 weeks with his family. Jeanie was in heaven to have him back in her arms. He brought joy and laughter and then headed back to where he lived. Shortly after he was gone. Jeanie has the sweetest heart. She has lived many years, quietly graciously living with the death of loved ones who went too early. She is a person filled with joy, love and such sweetness, and she loves people fiercely, with the heart of a lion. My heart breaks with hers.
Dear sweet friends here in Monticello are also dealing with the death of a child. A young woman, mother of two young children, loved by so many who knew here. I only knew her through her father and his wife. Two of the loveliest sweet people on the planet and as they deal with this loss, they must also carry the burden of worrying about their son in law and their grandchildren. They must carry on, and be strong for those around them. It is who they are, and I know their hearts will mend as they hold on to others and help them through this time.
I also received notice on FB this week that one of my dear friends from high school died this past week. She, Susan and I were in gym class together. Debbie didn't have a nick name. Susan was tiny and when she flew over the vaulting box she was like a little bird, hence her nick name. I was nick named frog in that I have a very small body with very loooooooong arms and legs and as I hit the box and went over it I guess everyone thought I looked like a tree frog. I really can't disagree, I still do. Deb, Susan and I were in the band. They had too many flutes and clarinets so they took volunteers to join in the percussion section. Deb played tenor drum, I played the cymbals. She was a year younger then I am.
Do you know how odd it is to watch my friends children, my younger friends from high school dying? I mean I experience the loss like anyone who loved these people, or loved the people who loved them and they died. But I was suppose to die so many times before, and here I live. Living with Stage 4 lung cancer, basically a death sentence, and yet, here I sit, very much alive. When I finish here I will go out and work in the gardens. I am alive. And I am living my life. I try not to be maniac about life and do everything. No, I found that living my life, my life, the life I make up at each moment's choice. I want to experience peace, not just death. I know what it takes to find this peace, all I have to do is do it. Get back in the habit of taking time to do yoga rather then only in tense or physically hard times to stretch, watch my weight placement, balance, and breathe with the movements. Yes, I did learn that yoga is not something you do once a week, it is something you use throughout your day. Unlike algebra, which really I do not use everyday, being respectful of my body as I learned in yoga does help. Imagine how wonderful I would feel if I actually gifted myself with time set aside for just me to do yoga. Yes, I am alive and I do know how to live my life. Deb is gone. I understand from her page that she had a wonderful life, that her son grew up and married. Their is a photo of that wedding day with Deb smiling, glowing with love, joy and happiness.
I called Ms Moon yesterday, it was all just too much, to many people dealing with death. I read Ms Moon's blog, blessourhearts, I know she too has been dealing with the death of loved ones. I started off talking to her about henopause, a term used for chickens when a hen ages past her egg laying production days. Henopause usually starts about 2 years after a hen has her first full production year. Higher egg producing hens usually go into henopause earlier then breeds that are not as egg productive. They are learning about certain types of ovarian cancer with these chickens. Human beings and chickens both get a related type of cancer that no other animal gets that has been found. Because in 5 years they are able to see an entire humans reproductive years in a chicken, they have been able to learn so much and test new chemicals to see if they can effect it in chickens, and maybe relate that to help for humans. Chickens, our friends, our food, our fertilizer. The article also discussed euthanasia for chickens. By allowing hens to grow old and take on the role of teachers and calmers of a flock, you gain so much more for the mere loss of eggs. They still provide entertainment and fertilizer, trust me. But you much be even more observant of your hens as they age to ensure that they do not get ovarian cancer, or one of the other reproductive problems common to hens. Really, did I need to read that yesterday? Yes, because I do not eat the meat of my chickens. I have tried it. Mr. Moon, bless his heart killed and butchered three roosters for me. I ended up with 4 roosters, because two were very late in realizing they were roosters, not hens, or maybe they transgendered, something that certain breed reportedly do. I appreciate what Mr. Moon did, trust me I know how hard that was, even for a hunter. And I don't think I can eat anymore of my chickens. Unknown clean and cut up chicken? Yes, I can do that. Years ago I could not, but I have learned to again, but no my babies. Now that I know what I need to watch for I will be able to be more humane to my wicked chickens. And yes, I will probably pick up half a dozen in the spring to blend into the flock. I am getting as many as three eggs a day once or twice a week, and most days get one egg. But a month ago it was 6 - 9 eggs a day. But it is natural for the chickens to stop laying and molt. All but three have completed their molting. Two of those are laying the eggs. The others look gorgeous, plump, shiny, beautiful new feathers.
After we discussed our chickens, hers are still suffering from the attack earlier this week. Bless their hearts, I do hope that Mr/Ms Moon, Owen and Gibson are able to soothe them and bring them back out share the yard with everyone. We discussed her grandbabies. I love to see the photos and read and hear about these two precious boys. We talked about death, and just as it was getting overwhelming we both stopped and said, that maybe this is one of the joys in life. To meet so many wonderful people. It is also a punishment in life to live long enough to watch them die. I am still here because I have a strong healthy body and a vibrant mind, given to me by my parents and both of those parts of me nurtured into who I am right now.
Alive.
Alive and well.
Heart sick for loved ones who
are missing their loved ones
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