Yesterday I attended the AGM for the Heritage Livestock Club of Eastern Ontario. It was a good opportunity to network with folks and I learned a few things about my soil which should help with my garden this year. On Feb 23 I started a new short-term job. As a result, I don't find myself having much time for scrolling pages on Facebook and checking out new patterns on Ravelry. I still must tend to the animals when I come home.
My job is tedious and no computer nor phone on my desk. Cell phones are not allowed as I deal with confidential information and it stays that way. I am however grateful as the job is inside and clean and no heavy lifting. It will also permit me to pay a few bills and put them to bed once and for all.
Last night I tried to catch up on a few things that I had missed including the wonderful Birthday messages that folks sent. Thank you! And yet, last night I found myself crying. I was crying for someone I had never met. Make that 2 people to whom my acquaintance is merely via Facebook as we raise sheep and chickens.
This dear woman lives in Maine, with her adult son. She is retired but has difficulty using one arm. she too is a story teller and I enjoy reading some of her posts and seeing photos of her Icelandic sheep. Her last post announced that her daughter had arrived and they were headed to the funeral home. What?? Who died? Her daughter lives out of state and with all the storms recently, her flights had been delayed and cancelled one after another. I anxiously scrolled down to see if I could be enlightened . Many stories were posted. Not her usual type of stuff and a few poems...Here I get to a post about the township bringing her cards and helping her cut and stack firewood. Oh geez- I am thinking the worst now. Her son does all those things for her...this is looking bleak.
I then read something about her walking to the spot where her son began his spirit journey. That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks. I did not need to read further to find out it was indeed her "right hand man" who had died and I also knew from those words that he had killed himself.
What a shame. What a loss. How horrible.. all these thoughts. Mental illness is a tough one. couple that with physical pain and well, I can't claim to understand how one's mind works. He attempted to get the help he needed but in the US, it seems different from here according to friend.
Two things I can learn from this tragedy is you never know how strong you are until you are required to be strong. And, the creative soul is not necessarily a tormented soul. It simply feels and thinks on a different plane.
Eric, may you find the peace you were looking for.
