When The Music Stops…
Although the calendar says Spring, on the fields of Farmington in an early hour, the cold still seeps through openings in my clothing, and the grey overcast skies mirror this week’s reflections on events in my life.
A month ago or so, one of my OB/GYN friends on call in the Delivery Room suffered a stroke. He was fine at 11 PM when he spoke to his wife, and at 1 AM when he didn’t respond to the call for a delivery, he wasn’t. A catastrophic clot in his brain has left his dominant side frozen and he remains in a rehab hospital trying to recover the pieces of his life that are still left. It seems to me that a fit analogy of this random hand of fate is much like the game of musical chairs. There one is suddenly bereft of a seat at the table, and the worst part is that we never can know when the music will stop. In fact, we can’t even hear the music playing most of the time. Add this event to the headline losses of a young life on a way to a mission trip, erased by a drunk driver, and the artistic talent of a Hollywood star snuffed out by an apparently minor fall on a bunny slope from a head injury. It makes one ponder just how fragile our lifeline to this world really is.
So what does one look to for a guiding star in this crazy unpredictable patch of land? The castles that we spend our lives constructing to protect us from the fates are really built on sand. So we need to carry what is important in our minds and in our hearts. And what is important more than ever is family and those close to you, including your dogs.
Then this morning, the simplest observation gave me back my focus. As I was trying to clean another garden bed of poop, the frozen ground resisted my efforts to give it up even with the use of a metal spade. Next to where I was trying to dig, were the tender shoots of a daffodil. Now how does a plant with shoots that are easily damaged by my foot, manage to push its way through the permafrost that I couldn’t chisel through? This is the miracle of life and the lesson of the universal struggle that all living things must face on a daily basis. Another “Damn” is what I say to that! Followed by an “Amen”.
The rest of this Sunday was spent in much more pleasant pursuits. We bottled a German white wine today and then were able to start the process of converting that part of the basement back into the whelping area. Having Rocky, the puppy, here continues to make life zany and zestful. Here he is playing inside a crate with his older sister Lucy..
Riley continues to get wider along her backside. She rests a little more often than her siblings now, but still enjoys a walk to the fields. Here are some shots of the crew resting after our walk today.
And our mom to be..
Riley’s due date is just two weeks away now, and our thoughts are starting to anticipate those adventures soon to come.