I am far and a world away from your Croft. I’ve admired, met and pet little lambs.While sitting in the passenger’s seat, I have stared through morning mists, barely making out the farmer standing amongst a flock. I can only see a few exposed edges of the care and diligence . Now, you have lifted a curtain, allowing me a glimpse of a day. And what this Vermonter sees, is how to save a life.
In more ways than one. And this undeniable truth , so beautifully written;
“That art of saying goodbye to something you love, which is a close cousin to the craft of dying. The craft of dying which is the inseparable twin brother of living well.” I will save this quote, and when I find its next purpose, your name will be scripted below.
Well that’s just a lovely idea - a few words waiting in the wings for their call to come on stage at some particular moment in the big drama. Thanks for being there, as ramble my way around the old paths and bye-ways.
I immediately did the same thing with this beautiful quote... Copied and filed for future use, it struck an elegant chord in my experience. Thankyou David 🙏🏻
As someone who often finds it hard to say goodbye and leave all manner of things both living and inanimate, I see where you are coming from.
Sometimes I find it’s almost better to have left unexpectedly and then I don’t have to think endlessly along the lines of, this will be the last time …. That time has already been and was suitably normal and in the moment and just as much a treasure as the drawn out sadness.
I learned a new word this morning, “mithering”. Thank you. Lambing is tricky business indeed. Fortunately I haven’t had to intervene too often, and have only once had to help a calf from its mother (far too heavy to swing to clear an airway😉).
I have to admit that I don't originally come from a place where 'mithering' is a word - but I've lived many years amongst people who have it from the cradle. So I don't feel too bad about borrowing it once in a whiley, when it really fits :-) And yes, having always kept historical breeds of sheep I've never really had to do more than assist a bit. But my little hands have been in demand once in a while for the big white ones.
I wasn't certain I would even get to the end of the first paragraph when I read your title David, just the thought... oh my heart! But I read on through your tender words written with equally tender hands - from relatively experienced shepherdess, you did good - to fall upon these lines, "That art of saying goodbye to something you love, which is a close cousin to the craft of dying. The craft of dying which is the inseparable twin brother of living well." and sigh because it's sheer beauty is unutterable.
Hi Susie. I was just saying to Anne Richardson how much I had missed that word ‘tender’. And here it is again. A whole world story wrapped up tight in a single lovely word. What a precious feedback loop we are all creating here :-)
I also lived in a tiny housey, on a different hill, overlooking Hayfield and the winding road from Chapel-en-le-Frith to Whale Bridge - Goodness the world is tiny!
You often set me to musing, David. When it comes to goodbyes, what we say does feel needed and important, and setting a seal on it helps us to move on to the state of being without that place or relationship. Yet, for the things we care about most, watch the hands ... perhaps what we do carries more weight than what we can/cannot put into words. Saving the life of a lamb. Holding the hand of someone we love who is dying. How difficult it is for us to live up to our own expectations at times. Our love might be enough. xo
'watch the hands' - heavens, that's a big paradigm-shifter away from 'listen' or 'look into their eyes'. I think maybe some people who have been credited with magical abilities in the past just knew the wisdom of 'watch the hands' :-)
well, tears are falling as i finish listening to you read this. so very tender...and this: "That art of saying goodbye to something you love, which is a close cousin to the craft of dying. The craft of dying which is the inseparable twin brother of living well" is a deep truth that our death adverse culture so often runs away from, playing instead with platitudes of what "living well" means. i'm saving this post so i can come back on sit in the beauty of the words again and again.
I so love it when someone echoes back a thought, a reflection from the mirror of reading and writing. 'Tender'. I'd lost sight of that word, somewhere in the bottom of my bag, waiting for its time to come again. I do a fair bit of translation in one way or another, into and out of Gaelic. Some words just take a word. Others, like tender would take a whole poem or a story or a book. I don't know where I would begin. Thank you for the reminder.
Your beautiful writing manages to examine mysteries with easy gentle desciptions of everyday, mortal moments. Thank you. Final goodbyes to a person or time of life or place are so different from our ordinary separations that are tinged with the certainty, or at least hope, of returning or meeting again. I am in my eighth decade and reading your lovely essay, I realize each seems part of a winnowing process and accepting the finality of one goodbye "like a lamb" opens the next door.
Beautiful words for the hardest thing to do. Places and things deserve their farewells too and those were so well done. It is reassuring to know I’m not the only one to whisper goodbyes to objects others would find strange to be deserving of such words.
I've also always found goodbyes so hard - and when you've moved about a bit, and every time made deep connections, the thought of the goodbyes can completely overshadow the joy of moving on! My last move I had ten very special trees (close mates) to say goodbye to , and believe me as I cried into their bark a little of my heart was left behind as it seemed so very final . But it felt also such a relief to not be having to hold back, or pretend to look for something in the back of the car (plane) in case a flood of tears might not be quite the thing. It was a proper goodbye and touched something very deep, on both sides I think. Saying goodbye to animals is the same, they allow us to weep openly. It's so good to talk about this ...... Thank you for sharing your experiences,
Beautiful farewells! Thank you for these vivid rememberings, David.
It's wild to think we are each carrying our own indelible moments, sifting through them occasionally to string together sequences that resonate and rhyme enough to offer others.
And that this is the stuff of life, the meat of it. Whatever meaning we make of it is, well, just gravy.
Who knows where the stories told go or how they influence readers and change trajectories?
This makes me think of all the missed goodbyes and what I might say now looking back.
We are living through a time of so much loss, change, and grief.
Such a huge contrast your old life to now. From fuselage to lamb!! No wonder it is a goodbye in your memory, that stands out as a life lesson. I admire your bravery David, in both! Particularly helping the ewe. Totally in awe in fact. And you can write about it an' all.
I am far and a world away from your Croft. I’ve admired, met and pet little lambs.While sitting in the passenger’s seat, I have stared through morning mists, barely making out the farmer standing amongst a flock. I can only see a few exposed edges of the care and diligence . Now, you have lifted a curtain, allowing me a glimpse of a day. And what this Vermonter sees, is how to save a life.
In more ways than one. And this undeniable truth , so beautifully written;
“That art of saying goodbye to something you love, which is a close cousin to the craft of dying. The craft of dying which is the inseparable twin brother of living well.” I will save this quote, and when I find its next purpose, your name will be scripted below.
Well that’s just a lovely idea - a few words waiting in the wings for their call to come on stage at some particular moment in the big drama. Thanks for being there, as ramble my way around the old paths and bye-ways.
I immediately did the same thing with this beautiful quote... Copied and filed for future use, it struck an elegant chord in my experience. Thankyou David 🙏🏻
I loved this piece!
Re: lambing….in my experience, sometimes you have to take the handles God gave you, and pull…just like you did.
That is kind of you, Anne, to give me that reassurance - and with such a ‘just-so’ turn of phrase :-)
As someone who often finds it hard to say goodbye and leave all manner of things both living and inanimate, I see where you are coming from.
Sometimes I find it’s almost better to have left unexpectedly and then I don’t have to think endlessly along the lines of, this will be the last time …. That time has already been and was suitably normal and in the moment and just as much a treasure as the drawn out sadness.
Be more lamb!
Yes. Good advice. ‘Be more lamb’ :-)
I learned a new word this morning, “mithering”. Thank you. Lambing is tricky business indeed. Fortunately I haven’t had to intervene too often, and have only once had to help a calf from its mother (far too heavy to swing to clear an airway😉).
I have to admit that I don't originally come from a place where 'mithering' is a word - but I've lived many years amongst people who have it from the cradle. So I don't feel too bad about borrowing it once in a whiley, when it really fits :-) And yes, having always kept historical breeds of sheep I've never really had to do more than assist a bit. But my little hands have been in demand once in a while for the big white ones.
I don’t come from the places where blethering is practiced either, but I frequently borrow it with great respect …
It’s a wonderful word!
I wasn't certain I would even get to the end of the first paragraph when I read your title David, just the thought... oh my heart! But I read on through your tender words written with equally tender hands - from relatively experienced shepherdess, you did good - to fall upon these lines, "That art of saying goodbye to something you love, which is a close cousin to the craft of dying. The craft of dying which is the inseparable twin brother of living well." and sigh because it's sheer beauty is unutterable.
Hi Susie. I was just saying to Anne Richardson how much I had missed that word ‘tender’. And here it is again. A whole world story wrapped up tight in a single lovely word. What a precious feedback loop we are all creating here :-)
And I miss the word ‘mither’ which is a world I learned when living in Hayfield Derbyshire! Some words don’t leave us no matter our origins….
Me too. I had a tiny little housey just down the road from where you were, in Tideswell for about ten years.
I also lived in a tiny housey, on a different hill, overlooking Hayfield and the winding road from Chapel-en-le-Frith to Whale Bridge - Goodness the world is tiny!
After I read this gorgeous piece, I thought, oh , Susie needs to read this immediately. I almost sent this to you this morning.
I almost couldn’t bear to read it for the fear of reading about sad goodbyes to lambs again!!
I know , though of that too💔
You often set me to musing, David. When it comes to goodbyes, what we say does feel needed and important, and setting a seal on it helps us to move on to the state of being without that place or relationship. Yet, for the things we care about most, watch the hands ... perhaps what we do carries more weight than what we can/cannot put into words. Saving the life of a lamb. Holding the hand of someone we love who is dying. How difficult it is for us to live up to our own expectations at times. Our love might be enough. xo
'watch the hands' - heavens, that's a big paradigm-shifter away from 'listen' or 'look into their eyes'. I think maybe some people who have been credited with magical abilities in the past just knew the wisdom of 'watch the hands' :-)
well, tears are falling as i finish listening to you read this. so very tender...and this: "That art of saying goodbye to something you love, which is a close cousin to the craft of dying. The craft of dying which is the inseparable twin brother of living well" is a deep truth that our death adverse culture so often runs away from, playing instead with platitudes of what "living well" means. i'm saving this post so i can come back on sit in the beauty of the words again and again.
I so love it when someone echoes back a thought, a reflection from the mirror of reading and writing. 'Tender'. I'd lost sight of that word, somewhere in the bottom of my bag, waiting for its time to come again. I do a fair bit of translation in one way or another, into and out of Gaelic. Some words just take a word. Others, like tender would take a whole poem or a story or a book. I don't know where I would begin. Thank you for the reminder.
Your beautiful writing manages to examine mysteries with easy gentle desciptions of everyday, mortal moments. Thank you. Final goodbyes to a person or time of life or place are so different from our ordinary separations that are tinged with the certainty, or at least hope, of returning or meeting again. I am in my eighth decade and reading your lovely essay, I realize each seems part of a winnowing process and accepting the finality of one goodbye "like a lamb" opens the next door.
Those are beautiful and wise insights, Leslie. Thank you.
Beautiful words for the hardest thing to do. Places and things deserve their farewells too and those were so well done. It is reassuring to know I’m not the only one to whisper goodbyes to objects others would find strange to be deserving of such words.
Oh heavens, I know. How can those big boulders or old trees not be dreaming, not be wondering where we’ve got to - if we don’t say goodbye :-)
I've also always found goodbyes so hard - and when you've moved about a bit, and every time made deep connections, the thought of the goodbyes can completely overshadow the joy of moving on! My last move I had ten very special trees (close mates) to say goodbye to , and believe me as I cried into their bark a little of my heart was left behind as it seemed so very final . But it felt also such a relief to not be having to hold back, or pretend to look for something in the back of the car (plane) in case a flood of tears might not be quite the thing. It was a proper goodbye and touched something very deep, on both sides I think. Saying goodbye to animals is the same, they allow us to weep openly. It's so good to talk about this ...... Thank you for sharing your experiences,
Oh, the trees. So stoic, so patient. Always giving and so rarely receiving. You did well :-)
Beautiful farewells! Thank you for these vivid rememberings, David.
It's wild to think we are each carrying our own indelible moments, sifting through them occasionally to string together sequences that resonate and rhyme enough to offer others.
And that this is the stuff of life, the meat of it. Whatever meaning we make of it is, well, just gravy.
Who knows where the stories told go or how they influence readers and change trajectories?
This makes me think of all the missed goodbyes and what I might say now looking back.
We are living through a time of so much loss, change, and grief.
THANK YOU for offering these poignant goodbyes!
Crikey, Angela! There's a whole book-full of thought packed into that comment. Don't know where to begin :-)
Mmmm. Beautiful. The birth of the lamb will stay with me.
Thanks, traveller. That is kind.
Such a huge contrast your old life to now. From fuselage to lamb!! No wonder it is a goodbye in your memory, that stands out as a life lesson. I admire your bravery David, in both! Particularly helping the ewe. Totally in awe in fact. And you can write about it an' all.
Thanks, Pipp. That is kind of you.