No one told me that when I moved to this no-stop-light-town I would be blessed with so many great relationships. No one also told me that I would experience so much heart ache & loss. See the thing about these tiny little farm towns is that the younger generation, the “me generation” wants nothing to do with these “nothing” towns- so naturally they leave.
This leaves a town full of old ornery farmers, sitting at the local café, drinking coffee at the community table. See, I love these people. & I love squeezing my way in the middle of them all at the community table.
They have stories, they have jokes & they all truly loved, lived & worked their lives to the absolute fullest. I got to learning who everyone was pretty quickly, as I was the blonde girl in the café in high heels with cow shit on her, who also happened to take in any sick animal possible. Naturally I was given the name Elly May almost two years ago & it’s still what I’m called today.
Within the last year & a half I have been to seven funerals & visitations. That’s more than I have been to in my whole life in California. Each one seems to get harder for me, because each time one passes, I tend to get more & more attached to the community. Every time I hear someone is headed down hill, I wish I could them a few extra days of my own, I guess that’s part of me being such a feeler.
Last Sunday I was with Ray checking cows & we happened to go to a gas station in the town over, not a typical stop for us. One of the ole farmers pulled Ray aside & told him he needed to go visit Kenny because he wasn’t doing well. This hurt me. As Kenny was a little firecracker & one of the first I had met when I moved. This also hurt me because Ray was very close with him. Ray had to deal with the turkey houses & wasn’t going to be able to make it to the hospital to see him that day. I could tell it hurt him.
A few hours later, I received a text message that Kenny had passed. I said no, there’s no way. Someone just saw him. It was true. He was gone.
Last night was the visitation & it was a full house. Every one was there & there was not a dry eye in there. I sat with his wife & she explained that he was in the hospital on Sunday & demanded to come home. He came home & died two hours later at their house.
After the service, I came home & did chores. I cried a little & sat with the cows. It was the most beautiful night last night & it was all for Kenny.