A new month, and honestly I feel like this is the start of the new year for me. The last few months of last year, and the entire month of January were hard. Physically and emotionally. Some really great days were sandwiched between sad days and I am excited to begin the journey into the lush Spring that will follow all these cold and rainy days.....
As most of you already know, last Thursday Misty took her last breath on my lap and started her new journey beyond that rainbow bridge to run the hillsides with her sister once again. It was the most perfect departure and it was all natural. I will never forget it, and she was definitely communicating to me in her last hour, that it was time. I had arranged for the vet to come, I had a friend rush over to help me/ be with Misty until I could make it home from work, and we waited and I held Misty so close and she was so calm and loving. I asked my friend to make a soft bed of hay (big enough for all three of us) outside of the manger and in the sunlight, because I felt Misty wanted to be in the sun. Once the little soft rye hay bed was made, we carried Misty out into the bright beams of sun that we hadn't seen in a few days. I had been wearing a knitted red and black poncho that day and put her head on my lap, covered her body with the poncho because it was chilly and I felt the sun would heat the darker colors of the poncho and keep her warm. The three of us sat there, my friend and I taking turns to love on Misty as we waited for the vet to arrive, and she made it known that she wanted me to hold her. Her head was in my lap, she spoke briefly, and literally within just a few minutes of having been in the sun surrounded by love, she breathed her last breath and went completely limp in my lap. It was more peaceful than some animals I have had to humanely euthanize. It was so perfect, it was almost unbelievable and it took us a few seconds to realize that was it. It hit me like a ton of bricks, but I was also so relieved that I didn't have to second guess making the wrong decision. With the super good days, and then the not-so-good days, it was hard to know if today was a 'bad day' or the end of her story here with me. Christian was home and he helped us lift her onto a little farm cart, and we carted her over to the big 200 year old oak tree where she was laid to rest at the edge of it's root system within an hour of her passing..... that is an experience I will never forget. Rest In Peace, my sweet, sweet Misty......
It has always been hard for me to accept help, or hand over the reigns, but since Misty's sickness and then her passing, I allowed so many people to come out and help me. Christian works a different shift than me, so most days, he is not around to help with the farm stuff - at least when it is daylight outside. This meant I had been pushed to my limit, and had to accept help from so many wonderful people offering it. I physically could not do it alone.... Misty's last weeks saw so many friends and neighbors stopping by to help in any way they could. I loved it all, and I feel like I actually grew into a better person during that time.
I want to be able to share this farm with others so they can heal and grow as I have been able to. The quiet, and the landscapes, and the emotional support the animals offer is something that I witnessed others benefiting from. February is the beginning of something new. Some type of shift that opens up the use of this place to help others in all kinds of ways. It is perfect for times like these when we are in the midst of a pandemic as well.... I shared fireside conversations, farm chores, tears, and talks of astronomy with people that I felt completely connected to because of the therapeutic benefits of this place.
Brace yourselves. I don't know exactly what is next, but it feels good.
Happy February 1. I hope to be back here tomorrow with a new post.