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Tragedy struck our little farm over the weekend. One of our baby goats died in a horrible accident. She was born just last week. The last kid of the season...and a girl! We were so happy to have one more girl since most of our kids had been boys. On a dairy farm, the girls are the only ones who get to make this their permanent home. In a few weeks, we will sell all of the little boys and it won't be nearly as fun this summer unless a few girls are still left in the barn. This baby was named Apple Dumpling and she was a sweety! Besides her, we only have one other girl this year. So, you can imagine the horrible grief that all of my children are feeling. It would have been sad and upsetting no matter what goat it would have been, but Apple Dumpling was going to be a member of the family and we all knew it the moment she was born. The details of the accident are ugly. I am sharing this all as a lesson to be learned. In fact, it is a rather common incident that happens on farms. Little Apple Dumpling drowned in a 5 gallon bucket of water. I had been dumping out the water buckets that were too full ever since the begining of kidding season. I reminded everyone that this was a potential accident waiting to happen. But, it does no good to point fingers now. It was an accident. The hysteria that resulted was not pretty....children sobbing and throwing themselves on their beds, parents arguing about the water buckets being filled to the top. I called my sister, as I always do when something bad has happend because we have the strange ability to make eachother laugh in the midst of turmoil. She asked me if I was ready to leave the farm for a small apartment or townhouse somewhere yet. I replied that the thought was seriously on my mind. Farm life can be an emotional roller coaster, and often is. Thankfully, some family members had invited us over for homemade fruit sorbet (which, by the way, is delicious!). At first, I called and told them that we could not possibly make it. The children were so distraught. They were wise enough to call back and encourage us to come. Once there, we were all able to relax and think of other things. The fruit was so good...frozen and run through a Champion juicer. We stayed far longer than we should have, or would have, but I think that we were avoiding the return home. Sure enough, as we pulled into the driveway I could see the fallen looks return to my children's faces as they gazed out to the barn. I felt my own heart sink into the pit of my stomach. We headed into the house and got ready for bed. Nobody said much. I heard some sniffles. Gabi, my five year old, climbed right into the middle of my bed and fell asleep. I left her there. As I curled up next to her and pulled the covers up around us, I prayed that God would comfort the bleeding hearts of my children. As I prayed, I was reminded of another farm accident that took place some 85 years ago... My great-great grandparents immigrated here from Poland/Germany almost 94 years ago. My great-grandmother, Helena, was only 5 years old and still vividly remembers the boat ride over the ocean. They moved to a farm in Michigan and Xavier and Anastasia Konkol began raising what became a large family of 9 children. One day, however, tradgedy struck the farm in a far more horrible manner than that of simply losing a baby goat. The horror of that day still lurks in the memory of my great-grandmother and she is not anxious to talk about it, but has shared details with me of what took place, although I am sure that much of it is locked within her heart and held on to privately. The family was busy with chores and going about the daily routine. My grandmother remembers them all being told to stop and look for little Monica, who was just a two year old toddler. She had wandered off. Suddenly, I imagine, that hysteria took place. Somebody, who it was my grandmother has never said, found Monica upside down in a 5 gallon bucket of water. It was too late to do anything. She had drowned. As I write this, my heart is writhed with pain, just as it was last night as I reflected on this story that is a part of my family heritage. Back then, things were different. The doctor was called out to the farm. The death was confirmed. The doctor then left little Monica with her family for the night, to return the next morning. My grandmother has spoken tenderly of how her mother wrapped Monica up in a blanket and slept, holding her in her arms through the night...although, I doubt she slept. When we moved to this farm, my grandmother actually mentioned to me never to leave buckets of water around...I knew why. Better a baby goat than a child for the rest of my family to learn this hard lesson. Don't leave 5 gallon buckets full of water where accidents can occur...which is just about anywhere. Death is ugly. Lets face it. Whenever I hear of a death taking place or an animal on our farm dies, I am reminded of previous losses. I wondered last night how much of the pain that my children were feeling was even because of the little goat. Oddly, two of them mentioned to me that it was awful, but not as awful as when Papa died... Had the baby goat irritated a scar that has not yet healed from when my father died less than two years ago? When someone dies, we must accept the fact that life will go on yet never be the same again. Change can really stink, especially for some. I am a person who does not like change. Death changes things. But, praise be to Yahweh. He made a way so that death does not have to destroy. It can only destroy us if we choose to let it. I grew up never having to deal with death. Nobody ever died. It was not until I was 18 that my grandfather died. Until then, I had never grieved the death of a family member. It was horrible. I hypervenilated at the visitation. I was totally unprepared. The year before we had lost our family dog and my dad made us all shut our eyes and not even look at her. He even cried. He buried her alone and didn't want us to experience it. But, my dad had experienced death. He lost his brother when he was only seven. His brother was six and it was a freak accident that left my dad scarred for life emotionally. He could not deal with death. When his grandpa died I was only 3 or 4 years old. It is one of my earliest memories. My dad sobbing uncontrollably. He feared death and hated it. My beloved grandpa (my mother's father) has been cursed with death during his lifetime. He lost his oldest brother in a tragic train accident when (my grandpa) was 5 years old. He still remembers the wreck. He was in it. His mother was injured in the accident and died a few years later. He found her. His father choked to death on a piece of steak a few year later. He was left an orphan, the youngest of four surviving boys. Later on, he would lose a daughter. My aunt died when she was not yet 3 years old. My grandfather is very familiar with death. Over the years, he has buried all but one of his brothers and several of his good friends. He gets a far away look in his eyes when a death takes place. He gets teary eyed when he talks with me about the animal deaths on his farm through the years. Even the deaths of dogs makes him sad. Amazing, considering how many deaths he has experienced in his life. He is familiar with grief, but it still causes pain. Doesn't it always? It is not an emotion that becomes comfortable over time. I don't want for my children to fear death. I hope that I am handling these experiences properly and that they are learning and growing from them. I don't want death to be something that they can't handle. But how do parents teach these things? I do believe that living on a farm has helped them to cope better. Grief is not a foreign emotion that they are unfamiliar with. They have lost cats, kittens, goats, chickens, and more deeply felt was the death of their papa. They know that they might not see their pets again in heaven, but that they will see Papa again. They have been taught that some people, if they chose to follow their own way rather than follow Messiah, will not go to Heaven but to a place of darkness, seperated from Yahweh. Death, for many, can be a welcomed relief from pain. It is not the end. We will go on. This life is only the begining of something much better. I allow my children to imagine the little goat frolicking around in green pastures with the Great Shepherd. Wether this is true or not is up for debate and I plead neutrality on the issue. I do not see any harm in allowing my youngest children this comfort. I have told them that I can't promise that they will see those pets again. My son, Nicholas, is convinced that the spirits of some animals do go on in Heaven. They are the lions and the lambs that someday the children will lead. He talks about being a shepherd in Heaven and how he will ride upon the back of a dinosaur. How do I argue with him? I have come to the conclusion that whether it is true or not is not that important in the scheme of things. They have the minds of children. When they grow up, they will reason as adults. Besides, once they get to Heaven, I don't think they will care anymore, so why burden them with it now? So, what are the lessons learned here? #1. Death is unavoidable! #2 Accidents are avoidable! #3 Don't fear death. Make sure you are ready to embrace it. It is the end of life on earth, but the begining of eternity...
Shalom!
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Posted by Nurseforlife
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