As always, you’ll need a cup of coffee or tea and a mindful moment to accompany you as you read my letter. mind-ful-ness: a mental state achieved by focusing one’s awareness on the present moment.
But besides having a few favorite things in Spring, there is a sadness also that springs forth in March—March 30, 2011––the day my father died–– called home, passed away, got his wings or whatever you want to say. I remember, all too well, him schooling me before he died, “You have accepted this?” he asked solemnly.
|Circa 1968. Daddy was 35 years.|
Tearfully, as a grown woman, I nodded in agreement though I didn’t understand fully what that would entail. I knew early on that death was a part of living. Death always brought sadness when it occurred on the farm. I remember watching in the wee hours of the morning when our baby pigs were being born, and after say eight piglets born pink, healthy and robust, there would be one born lifeless, blue and not breathing. Try as Mother would to resuscitate it by rubbing vigorously and blowing oxygen into its tiny little mouth, it just couldn’t be revived. We had to give up accepting it was gone and she did all she could.
And just as we have borne the image of the earthly man,
Last year, on the table next to my chair I witnessed a Monarch caterpillar’s metamorphosis. Wow! We learned about it in elementary school on paper, probably you did too, but this was up close and truly miraculous. Inside the netted, zippered canister I placed a milkweed leaf and a caterpillar from the Butterfly Sanctuary field on our farm. Within days the caterpillar climbed to the top and made an hanging, effervescent, green chrysalis. Soon after, the green chrysalis turned dark black as if it was rotting. I thought I killed it. Yet very soon one could faintly begin to see the orange of the Monarch’s wing all folded up inside this darkened mass. The next morning, there was a beautiful butterfly gently flapping its wings to dry. It was magnificent. And to think, just at the brink of what I thought was death by rot, was just the moment of transformation. A new body was transformed from a fat chubby caterpillar to a butterfly and then, get this, did you know a GPS destination is already placed inside its brain to fly south to Mexico at precisely the right time of year––their heaven on earth.
|Daddy loved cars! 16 years old.|
Sherry is a regular contributor to The Brown County Press. She shares her farmhouse memories and recipes from her life on the farm sprinkled with peace, love and joy. Her book My Farmhouse Journal: Memories and Recipes is available on Amazon.