Sometimes I wonder if I’m creating a fiction here. A fairy tale written with extra helpings of happy, interesting and perky and stingy with the dark, melancholy and gritty.
If so, I don’t mean to. It’s just that I’m eager to share things I like, and tend to pass on dwelling on the things that make me cry. I’m kind of normal that way…
Hannah Banana died this week. She gave no real warning, but it was looming. She is almost twenty and has been losing her bloom, so I’ve been kind of bracing myself for the inevitable for a while.
Still, I wasn’t ready.
Ho, ho, ho.
As always, I find solace in a brisk walk outside, doing farm chores and reading the contemporary Thomas Moore.
In his book The Education of the Heart, he says this:
“No mysteries are more profound and confounding than loss, suffering, ending, illness, and death. The death of someone close reminds us of what is important and may give us back our soul, but still the cruelties of life seem senseless. They tarnish our optimism and challenge our faith, and yet, oddly, they retain the power to make us ever more human. They do so only when we give them attention and speak for, ritualize, and keep in memory events that hurt, confuse, and keep us in the dark.”
He also shared this poem from Mary Oliver, “In Blackwater Woods”
To live in this world
You must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.
Speaks for me perfectly – I let go, though it’s not what I want to do.
Goodbye Mrs. B, you’ll always be Head Cow to me…
You haven’t met Hannah? Click here to find out why we should all try to be a little more like her.