Tears in the Rain

If you cry in the rain will anyone notice? Or do they just think the rain is running down your face? Perhaps if they know you well enough or are just perceptive, they indeed will look into your eyes and see the truth. Pain and sorrow are often hard to hide when someone looks directly into a person’s eyes. Tears are the cursor that many people are alerted by.

October 31^st, Halloween, 2012 was a rainy deary day such as the one today. People being silly, scaring peeps in good humor, the delight of candy without guilt, and children in costumes walking, skipping, and rushing in pairs, trios, and groups having fun. 

Yet I was hiding tears in the rain.

Halloween of 2012 found me on the last day of my second year as the amateur cow whisperer saying goodbye to a feisty young bull named JoyBoy. Today, Halloween 2024, finds me a week from my last day as the amateur cow whisperer, with the first of three loads to various cattle sales. Saying goodbye to my three oldest cows, Orca, Spice, and Clover. Orca has just turned twelve and the other two are nine. They have all been good breed cows and my daily companions of many moons.

Life moves forward and with that constant flow of the waters new chapters in one’s life are always coming. My new chapter will not include cows, well, not my own at least. Just like the teenage days of my youth when I raised sheep. I was good at tubing newborn lambs and so for years after leaving sheep and lambing to someone else I was still called on in those emergencies. That is until my aging fingers could no longer feel the tube through the lamb’s throat potentially causing risk to the lamb. I ponder what the years look like ahead with the end of this cattle chapter. Will I be called in to lend assistance as a cow whisperer? Perhaps.

ACW Journal Entry – 10/31/2012:

In the days, months, and years leading up to this day I had never once thought I would mind saying goodbye to the little bull named, JoyBoy, but I guess you can get attached when you care for something every day for almost two years. It is fitting that my “cow year” ends with JoyBoy and Erin as it was with them that I began my first experiences with the cows on the ranch.

JoyBoy was the first calf that was born on the ranch that first year Erin and I tended the cows. We didn’t expect that little Angus bull calf, let alone know what to do with him, or even what would be normal for him to be doing, that very first day calves began to arrive. It was amateur day #1 the day JoyBoy was born. 

JoyBoy was an all-black stocky little bull calf. After a few short months he became very shaggy and fluffy. Like all creatures he transformed over time and just shy of two-years old he was his father’s bull. JoyBoy is now tall, lean, and sturdy with a sleek black coat and his ever-big alert style ears and inquisitive nature. 

Erin was home from college a few weeks ago and when she heard JoyBoy would be going to the bull auction she had to have her picture taken with him. It most assuredly displayed a much different size image than when he was a newborn calf. Of course, JoyBoy wouldn’t cooperate entirely with the “formal picture” and so Erin had to settle for a shot with her kneeling in front of his face while he was eating hay. A picture of Erin was found from when she was four-years old and with a set of twin calves on the ranch. Just as creatures transform with age so do humans. Erin and JoyBoy had both grown into beautiful images.

As I fed JoyBoy his breakfast this morning and then happily said a farewell to him after he grabbed the pitchfork full of hay and caused it to tumble over to the wrong side of the feeder, I also thought “good-ridden”. Later at work, sitting at my desk, I received a text from Richard that he had loaded JoyBoy up and was headed for the bull sale. 

A few hours went by and in between Medicare clients another text from Richard came in that said, “Almost shed a tear when he walked out of trailer – he stopped turned to look directly at me with what’s going on look…” And then, right there at my work desk, I lost my composure. The tears began to fall. 

JoyBoy had only ever known the ranch. Never once had he been off its land, what was he thinking? No one even realized I was crying. It was just my troublesome autumn allergic watery eyes and outside the pounding rain. 

Today no one was any more perceptive of the tears than that day twelve years ago. The rain was falling, the breeze blowing it sideways, and the fog so thick that it helped hide my face. These three old cows, Orca, Spice, and Clover had been trailered many times over the years. They trusted my voice and followed commands. They were happy to be trailered and go for another ride, together, as cow friends. The drive in the rain was uneventful. They exited the trailer as easily as they had embarked for the journey. 

Now back at home sitting in my comfy desk chair in front of my giant computer screen, alone, in the silence of the house. The rain has ceased, the wind still, the fog lifted, but my tears continue. So many emotions going through my brain and heart as the pen is lifted on this chapter of my life and the ink begins to dry. My tears do not. I own the fact that a huge piece of me has just evaporated like the rain drops on the windows.

I’ve experienced the death of my spouse not too many years ago and the grief that accompanied the loss. But one can grieve the loss of a dream too. It is a valid feeling. The saying – for something new to take place something old needs to die; there is grief in that. It’s okay to grieve that loss. Perhaps particles of the lost dream can be repurposed into a part of the new dream. My tears and grief over the cows will cease in time. 

I’d like to wrap this blog with an upbeat and happy inspiration. My dream of raising beef cows is ending but in fulfilling that dream it gave way to a long-lost dream of writing. Over a decade ago I was in the barn with the cows and the words just began to flow. My fingers sailed over the keyboard as my cow experiences with the cows turned into quirky tails of cows and humans. That opened the door for me to impact, inspire, and relate to others through writing. 

If I can repurpose my cow dream into my dream to be an author, then you my peeps can do the same for your lost dreams. I do not take credit for this, God, has given me the talents and it’s my responsibility to share that with others and give him the glory. 

The Amateur Cow Whisperer isn’t going anywhere! I’ll still be blogging the cow stories as they come to me – after all, I have fourteen years’ worth of material to pull from.