Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Coco Died

Okay, Holly, I will try to post something.

The other day I got a call from Coco's new owner. She had some strange symptoms. I thought it might be mastitis, but who can tell over the telephone, several states away?

I was busy hurrying from the bakery to the church to take kids to acolyte training. Then I hurried back home to finish up in the bakery, then got up early to head to the farmer's market, then rushed home to clean house and pack and wait for Mom and Daddy to get here for Nora's baptism on Sunday morning, then be ready to fly to Virginia on Monday morning.

My friend and I drove to Midland, trusting that kids were well cared for, hopped on plane, via Houston and Washington DC and then Roanoke.

The rental car made its way through the Catawba Valley late Monday night and the 54 degree temperatures were eery for late January. I got out to open the gate and was shocked as the tears overwhelmed me.

The familiar mountains and outbuildings, smells and sounds acosted my senses and I guess I started crying and couldn't stop until sometime the next day.

I went back to take care of a few things on the farm, readying it for the spring real estate market.

We painted bedrooms upstairs. We scraped paint off the balcony window that the painters forgot last summer. We mopped and polished and cleaned baseboards and rearranged furniture and cleaned attic. Serge and James came and helped with the painting. So did Debra. Maggie and Stewart and Julia brought lunch. Seemed like old times. Almost like old times, anyway.

I took paperwork to my accountant in Floyd. Had a quick lunch with Lynne at our favorite, the Blue Apron. Raymond and I were astonished to hear peepers in the evening.

How weird is that?

I remember that we usually heard the peepers in March. Will have to check the blog to make sure, but NEVER in January or February.

Can you believe that the pond hasn't frozen over once this winter? Our neighbor friends who were born in the valley said that it hasn't been so warm in the winter in their 58 yrs of recollection.

I haven't cried so many hours in a very long time.

I mourned the death of many dreams.

My friend comforted me and didn't run away from my tears.

I was shocked at the amount of tears. Wanted to run away myself, but couldn't.

I am glad to be in Texas. Don't even want to move back to the farm.

It hurt me deeply to be there. And just about the time I thought I was done with crying and could get on with my work, I found out that Coco, our dear milk cow, died of gangrenous mastitis.

I wept and wept. She was my friend as you long time blog readers know.

I guess she influenced my life more than just about any person I have known.

It is very late and I should be in bed instead of writing in this blog, but for some reason, I feel rotten when I don't write, so here I am, feeling rotten.

I wish to write many things about Coco. Hope to do that later.

But for now, the truth is, I am hurting over a lot of things. February is not my favorite month. I miss my friends. I love the new friends who are being woven into our life here in Alpine, but true friendship takes time and shared experiences and it is hard to want to invest all the energy when I have dear ones I love back near the farm.

I felt so happy knowing Coco was giving life and joy to her new family, and now they know grief and are busy taking care of her new little baby, Nutmeg. Thank God for Nutmeg to keep them moving forward.

I was so tired from the work and emotional drain from the trip, I wished to stay in bed for a week, but thankfully I have kids who need me. So I am getting up to see them off to school. And am washing clothes and operating the bakery and having Bible study and going to the History of Philosophy class even though I would rather not.

The moon was full yesterday, I think. It is still astonishingly bright this evening. I walked to the campus this evening and it was brisk, but a light jacket sufficed. Hopefully we will get some rain this week. I have lots of things to tell, but will head to bed, hoping that tomorrow the energy will be somewhat restored.

Peace to all.

6 comments:

Chris said...

I'm so sorry about Coco and all the grief you must endure. Thankfully, you have family and friends.

gingerhillery@mac.com said...

Thanks, Chris. Am terribly thankful for our family and friends. They, plus all the beauty that surrounds us everyday definitely make it worth getting up in the morning.

Beth said...

Ginger, I'm so sorry to hear about Coco. She really did seem like a special cow---I always enjoyed reading about her--- and I know it must hurt a lot to hear of her passing.

gingerhillery@mac.com said...

Thanks, Beth. Even now, I feel embarassed, writing about crying over a cow. Thinking how silly that sounds. Oh well. Thanks for caring!

Truthseeker said...

I'm so very sorry to hear of Coco's passing. I really enjoyed all the stories about her and how she gave to your family, physically & emotionally, and was now giving to a new family. Her stories will be missed.

Leonora said...

It sounds like an overwhelming amount of memories and emotions; some old and raw, some new and raw.
I'm sorry about Coco and that you've had to let go of something precious again.