The Tide of Grief

Today was a beautiful day on the island. It's starting to feel more and more like Spring everyday and I'm looking so forward to warmer weather and longer days. 

I was out in the yard puttering around as most of my mornings start this way. My routine is pretty standard – wake up, coffee in hand, snuggle cats, check on my seedlings and then if it's sunny out, I'll walk the property and usually get distracted by the never ending to-do list which reminds me... I forgot to cover my tulips so the deer stop eating them so we'll see how that turns out tomorrow. Wish me luck.

When I was doing my morning walk, I headed over to the chickens to give them some scraps from inside and I noticed that one of the girls was looking pretty weak. Her bottom half was hung low, she wasn't really moving much and I instantly knew something was wrong. 

I went inside the chicken coop, scooped her up and then took her into the sun and sat with her to try and figure out what was wrong with the poor girl. As we sat there together with the sun on our face, she sunk deeper and deeper into my lap becoming heavier and heavier with every stroke of her little comb. Her eyes began to close and I thought I was going to lose her in that moment. We sat there for almost an hour together. I could feel her little heart beating ever so gently, her little beak which appeared to be gasping for a breath and that's when I began to cry thinking it was her last moments. 

Animals have a way at pulling at my heart strings as I believe that anything with a hearbeat deserves to be treated and loved with respect and dignity and yes  – that includes chickens, especially chickens.

One thing people don't know is that chickens can be extremely social. We have always raised our birds to be hand held and because of this, they become part of the family. They follow us around the yard, chirp when they hear a door shut because they know we are close by. It's actually really sweet and when you lose one, it hurts just like any other pet. 

So, today... in that moment, that's what I was preparing myself for. There were so many times when I thought it was going to be her last breath and there wasn't anywhere else in the world I would have rather been than right there with her showing her love and compassion in her final moments and that's what lead me here to write this blog at 10:04pm. 

I sat there with my little hen on my lap and it reminded me of all the grief I have experienced in my lifetime. All the people I have watched in their last moments on this Earth and what an honour is to witness such a bittersweet moment because as we all know – with life comes death no matter how much we try to avoid it. 

I witnessed the death of my Nonno at 18 years old and then nearly two decades later I was with my Grandma for the days leading up to her passing and then I watched her take her last breath as I laid next to her in her hospital bed. 

Death doesn't scare me. It's the grief that scares me more than anything. Living life after without the people or pets we once knew and loved so much – that's what pains me. 

Almost 2 years ago right after my Grandma died, just four short days later I got a call from my husband just as I was about to head to the airport to come back home. Actually, he called my Mom who I was with at the time and let her know that our cat Marlo had been hit and killed by a car. That's what I was coming home to. A home I left with a Grandmother still alive and my cat and then I was coming home to nothing, or so that's what it felt like.

I had never been hit with so much grief in my life. I had no clue how to manage it, how to heal it or how to even comprehend it. When two things happen at once, two deaths – you combine them both. It's a whirlwind of emotions that you can't even wrap your head around no matter how hard you try. 

Fastforward 3 weeks later to when I became pregnant with twins for the first time in over a decade long journey of Infertility. As you can imagine, these time in my life felt like a dream. I had just lost my Grandma and my soul pet and then I was pregnant after trying for all these years? How did any of this even make sense?

The life force of my little babies made it all seem like everything was happening for a reason, or so they say. Two deaths turned into two lives, right?

Wrong. Nearly 3 weeks later I had a miscarriage and lost everything again and this is the kind of grief I was reminded of today. The grief that will always live inside of me for the rest of my days on this earth. The grief that shapes and defines my story, my healing and my heart's desire to love deeply because afterall, grief is just love with nowhere to go. 

And that's the inevitable part of life, death. The unavoidable, the unimaginable – even though we know it's coming for everyone and everything, including ourselves but there is beauty in that if we open our heart to it and I was reminded of that today as I sat there with my hen on my lap as the sun shone down on us. She made it the day and as I write this I wonder if she will pass in the night or if she'll make a comeback as I may have figured out what was wrong with her but only tomorrow will tell...

A gentle reminder to love deeply, take it all in, especially the small moments in life. Listen to the birds chirp, feel the wind on your face, tell your loved ones how much they mean to you and most definetely don't sweat the small stuff because after all – it's all small stuff. 

Erin

xo