Sunday, April 19, 2009
It is gray and drizzling outside; somehow that feels appropriate, like the tears streaming down my face. In the distant trees a cuckoo bird sings. The sheep I’m watching continue grazing, oblivious to my farewell emotions; Mina my collie companion sits on her hind legs looking up at me, waiting for the next cue. I reach inside my work-jacket pocket for a tissue and pull out a dingle-berry. (God has a great sense of humor.)
During this morning’s milking, I assisted Pasquale in snipping the dried turds off sheep. One must have inadvertently slipped down my coat when the ewes wiggled uncomfortably under the shears. Pasquale offered an explanation for their grooming complaints, “Ship say, ‘Leave my shit alone.’” (1. Feces jokes are international. 2. Pasquale has a great sense of humor.)
When I was a child, I asked my dad, “Who do you like better, me or my brother?” In Zen style, my father answered, “Who do you like better, me or mom?”
There is no single place, single experience, or single person to love. It is all part of the whole, the amazing, magnificent, incomprehensible One.
Yesterday I got my wish; I watched a birth. It wasn’t the ewe delivering her lamb as I envisioned; it was the farm cat delivering her litter. For three hours, I was memorized by the mother and her rat-looking kittens, all knowing exactly what to do during the momentous event. Mom made her nest on the bed-spread I began my Ca’Mazzetto journey with a month ago. How appropriate it should end there.
And so it does not really matter if it’s a sheep giving birth or a cat, if it’s brother or sister, if it’s Albareto, Coccorano, or Santa Barbara. The church bells will continue to echo within me long after I’ve departed and am in the company of loved ones at home. It is all One in this divine universe we are blessed to be a part of, the one we call life.
On this final journal entry, I wish to thank you for sharing in these adventures. But mostly, I wish to thank you for being one with me.