Today is my favorite holiday of the year! Thanksgiving: the day to take a moment and reflect on all the wonderful gifts in your life. Of course, you can, and should (!) do this daily; but today, we do this in a house that smells of turkey, onion and pie spices amongst the people we hold most dear. What’s not to be grateful for?
I’ve been taking stock and counting my blessings all month. Sometimes I try to rank the things that are most important. Many things have changed in my life over the last few years. Some things are changing currently. I’ve gained much and lost some in the process. I’ve let go of some things that turned my heart inside out. There’s still more of that to do. In those moments, I am grateful for the knowledge that while there is a lot lost in the release, there is much to gain to fill the empty spaces those losses provide.
Foremost, I am thankful for my children and all the love and life lessons they provide me. They fill our home with laughter and our hearts with warmth and happiness. I am thankful for the opportunity to guide their young spirits and; I hope, show them their potential is endless. All the while getting to revel in the uniqueness of their thoughts and the boundlessness of their love.
There seems to be no all encompassing words to delineate the gratitude I feel for my family (I count my husband in this. At some point, when I wasn’t looking, he went beyond being ‘that guy I dated and married’ to ‘my family’). Each person brings such different gifts! Laughter, wisdom, perspective, friendship, not to mention the partnership and respect borne of working together on a near-daily basis! I will not pretend the moments when it is all a little too close for comfort do not exist, but equally so are the moments when not close enough exist. At those times, it is good to go work with someone you like as much as you love. I'm glad I get to do that, too.
The life I have is also a tremendous blessing. The home located smack in the center of the story of my youth that mingles with the story that is being drafted currently; the farm that speaks of generations of family and history, of hard work and great love. The pleasure of writing and working and spending days peering into the future through the eyes of the under ten set. It’s not an extremely lucrative life; but it is an incredibly rewarding one.
Good friends. Second Chances. Stars and planets! Raindrops and rainbows. I am grateful for those moments when you realize it is entirely possible the best is still ahead of you. So while I am grateful for yesterday and today, I am even more thankful for all the tomorrows yet to come!
Happy Thanksgiving!
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
The Hope in a Lilly... and her Lillyanne
Let me tell you the story of Lilyanne.
It begins with her mother, Lilly, who was born in April, 2001. I was living in Michigan, pregnant with my first baby, and had recently lost a good friend to colon cancer. I had planned to call and tell her of my pregnancy when I got home from work that Good Friday. Instead, I came home to a message from her mother on my answering machine that she had passed away. Turns out, it wasn't such a good Friday.
Lilly was born a few days after that. When I lived away from home, my new calves kept me feeling connected to the farm. Grounded and centered in who I was, where I came from, and what really mattered to me in life. Lilly's birth gave me hope and reminded me that by fall another birth would illuminate my world in ways a million calves would never be able to.
I kept Lilly's picture at my desk at work. She was always the first cow I thought of as those early years went by. She grew and brought forth six daughters of her own, three of which did not survive their youth for exceptionally unique, unforeseen and inescapable reasons.
As she aged, Lilly developed a unique personality and penchant for unpredictable behavior which usually hit it's peak just as she was about to calve. She instinctively knew that oxytocin release could induce labor and was found at the end of one gestation letting a calf help her induce her own labor. She was a genius! Within 24 hours, she gave birth to her daughter, Lollypop.
She got a little reckless after that. The next year, she decided to jump into the spreader shed on her way to the calving pen: a four foot drop to a concrete floor! Nobody thought a nine-year-old cow was going to take such a leap! Not only did she land on her feet, she turned around and tried to climb back up and into the barn! It wasn't long after that, her daughter, Liberty was born.
Her last gestation proved to be the most troublesome, however. Very early into the pregnancy, she injured herself going into her stall. It was serious. A quarter so damaged we couldn't milk it without causing her pain. The prevailing opinion was she should be slaughtered ASAP. Far be it from me to listen to logic, I decided to give her meds that would kill the quarter. Maybe she could stay as a three-quartered cow. At least, maybe I'd have the chance to get one more calf. My decision was a questionable one...
The meds made Lilly sick. She stopped milking and was put to pasture ("dried off") until her due date. As the months went by, it was plain to see, even from a football field away or greater, that her udder was in terrible shape and there would be no keeping her after the birth of her calf. She would only continue to hurt herself navigating the stalls and pasture. We all wondered what the chances were of that calf she carried being a heifer...
As her due date drew near, we mulled over the best ways to care for her. Wednesdays are auction days. We hoped this ornery cow might calve on a Tuesday so we could save her as much discomfort as possible and get her to the auction the next day. Nobody actually thought Lilly would comply, she had a knack for doing things her own way...
... But that's exactly how it went. Lilly gave birth to a heifer calf on a Tuesday morning. She went to market the next day. It broke my heart to let her go. But we went back to this little heifer calf, born sluggish and with very slack muscle tone. Prevailing logic concludes the injury and meds we used to deal with it took their toll on this little girl. I worried she may not pull through, and she may not ever be a vigorous, healthy calf...
But as the days went on, Lilyanne perked up. She ate, she stood, she walked, she ran, she bounced!
Knowing the fate of three of her sisters, I held my breath through those early months. The other three hadn't survived long enough to be weaned off milk before some random illness swept them away. Lilyanne did and continues to thrive!
So there you have it. My miracle story that began almost a year ago! Had I not had hope, had I not taken a chance my family thought I was crazy to take, I would not have this now vibrant calf bouncing around, bullying her peers, and becoming the touchstone her mother once was for me.
Hope, determination and perseverance can currently be summed up for me in one word: Lilyanne.
It begins with her mother, Lilly, who was born in April, 2001. I was living in Michigan, pregnant with my first baby, and had recently lost a good friend to colon cancer. I had planned to call and tell her of my pregnancy when I got home from work that Good Friday. Instead, I came home to a message from her mother on my answering machine that she had passed away. Turns out, it wasn't such a good Friday.
Lilly was born a few days after that. When I lived away from home, my new calves kept me feeling connected to the farm. Grounded and centered in who I was, where I came from, and what really mattered to me in life. Lilly's birth gave me hope and reminded me that by fall another birth would illuminate my world in ways a million calves would never be able to.
I kept Lilly's picture at my desk at work. She was always the first cow I thought of as those early years went by. She grew and brought forth six daughters of her own, three of which did not survive their youth for exceptionally unique, unforeseen and inescapable reasons.
As she aged, Lilly developed a unique personality and penchant for unpredictable behavior which usually hit it's peak just as she was about to calve. She instinctively knew that oxytocin release could induce labor and was found at the end of one gestation letting a calf help her induce her own labor. She was a genius! Within 24 hours, she gave birth to her daughter, Lollypop.
She got a little reckless after that. The next year, she decided to jump into the spreader shed on her way to the calving pen: a four foot drop to a concrete floor! Nobody thought a nine-year-old cow was going to take such a leap! Not only did she land on her feet, she turned around and tried to climb back up and into the barn! It wasn't long after that, her daughter, Liberty was born.
Her last gestation proved to be the most troublesome, however. Very early into the pregnancy, she injured herself going into her stall. It was serious. A quarter so damaged we couldn't milk it without causing her pain. The prevailing opinion was she should be slaughtered ASAP. Far be it from me to listen to logic, I decided to give her meds that would kill the quarter. Maybe she could stay as a three-quartered cow. At least, maybe I'd have the chance to get one more calf. My decision was a questionable one...
The meds made Lilly sick. She stopped milking and was put to pasture ("dried off") until her due date. As the months went by, it was plain to see, even from a football field away or greater, that her udder was in terrible shape and there would be no keeping her after the birth of her calf. She would only continue to hurt herself navigating the stalls and pasture. We all wondered what the chances were of that calf she carried being a heifer...
As her due date drew near, we mulled over the best ways to care for her. Wednesdays are auction days. We hoped this ornery cow might calve on a Tuesday so we could save her as much discomfort as possible and get her to the auction the next day. Nobody actually thought Lilly would comply, she had a knack for doing things her own way...
... But that's exactly how it went. Lilly gave birth to a heifer calf on a Tuesday morning. She went to market the next day. It broke my heart to let her go. But we went back to this little heifer calf, born sluggish and with very slack muscle tone. Prevailing logic concludes the injury and meds we used to deal with it took their toll on this little girl. I worried she may not pull through, and she may not ever be a vigorous, healthy calf...
But as the days went on, Lilyanne perked up. She ate, she stood, she walked, she ran, she bounced!
Knowing the fate of three of her sisters, I held my breath through those early months. The other three hadn't survived long enough to be weaned off milk before some random illness swept them away. Lilyanne did and continues to thrive!
So there you have it. My miracle story that began almost a year ago! Had I not had hope, had I not taken a chance my family thought I was crazy to take, I would not have this now vibrant calf bouncing around, bullying her peers, and becoming the touchstone her mother once was for me.
Hope, determination and perseverance can currently be summed up for me in one word: Lilyanne.
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