Mariposa is hosting this week and wants to know:
Let's talk about TEARS. What images spring to mind when you hear the word ‘tears’? Have you ever had tears of laughter and tears of joy? When was the last time you had tears of joy? Tears of laughter? Tell us about it!
Ah, crying... a near-daily part of my life now. I have discovered that it is a very good stress reliever. Every couple of days, I play back a "Touched by an Angel" episode and really cry when the story gets to the bit where the angel reveals him/herself. By the end, my eyes are dry and I'm ready to start my day.
I am also very familiar with tears of joy and laughter. When my whole family gets together, there are invariably both kinds. My brothers can make me curl up on the floor howling with laughter (the sponge story still makes me tear up it was so funny!).
And of course, our pets are good for all kinds of laughter and tears. They are so sweet, so loving, and so kooky.
When my parents moved to the farm, they toyed with the idea of getting a dog, but somehow it never happened. Then one day, my brother A called. A fellow police officer was having a baby and there was no room in her apartment or in her time anymore for the 11 month old German Shepard she owned. She wanted to make sure he went to a good home, and A knew just where that dog was needed.
Deacon came to live at my parents' house and quickly became a much loved member of the family. He was also known as "Uncle Dog" because he was our fur brother. When Dad decided it was time to try raising chickens, Deacon was fascinated. He learned quickly that chasing the chickens was not acceptable, but letting them ride around on his back was.
Saturday night, my parents went to see a play. And while they were gone, Deacon decided to go visiting - probably to the dogs across the highway. Across the highway was the problem. He was hit by a car, and when my parents got home, he was lying by the side of the road.
He was too heavy for my dad to lift, so in the morning, he got up early, dug a grave in the pasture, then called his friend John to come help him move Deacon. They got the job done and Dad made him a marker.
I spent yesterday afternoon at the farm. And there were tears. Different kinds of tears. Tears of laughter recalling the time Deacon (who had an unfortunate fondness for chicken poop) actually caught a chicken and proceeded to clean its backside up. Tears of joy at having had that magnificent animal in our lives. And tears of grief because a big hole has been left in our family.
It is said that people who have loved greatly will love again. That will be the case here. Already my mom is wondering if it's possible to get another dog from the same bloodline. Because a sweetness like Deacon's is in the blood.