Cows, Foot and Mouth Disease, and stuff

I just had to share a thought or three with ya'll.

I remember the time Daddy and Mama were in the front seat and I was in the backseat. We rode by a dairy farm. The beautiful cows were enclosed in their fence, right there...just fence and the ditch-bank between us. I just sat, mesmerized by what I saw, dreaming about how completely and absolutely sweet their eyes looked. So peaceful. Lovely and peaceful were their eyes---all of them alike.

I opened my mouth, like 5-year-olds will, and said aloud what I wondered about.

"I wonder if we are "born again", would God let me come back as a cow?" (Good listener at church, I was. NOT! We were Baptists, not Hindu!)

Mama's head swirled around. "Where did you learn about Hinduism??!"

I could tell she was not happy---after all, we were Southern Baptists! But, I thought to myself, what is Hinduism?

I asked what that word meant and she explained the best she could to her 5-year-old.

"Will they really come back as cows, Mama?"

She said no, that God doesn't let people come back as animals like that. He made us in His image, Adam from dust, and Eve from Adam's rib. Then she wondered, again, why I wanted to "come back as a cow."

" 'Cause, Mama---look! They're so peaceful and happy!  They seem to have ---like...like a peace in them. Don't you see it?"

She and Daddy had stopped their arguing when I mentioned my peaceful cow wish. They were quiet. All the way home. Their quiet didn't last through the night, though.

No, it wasn't peaceful at my home when I, at night, often went into the woods. It was near our house, but far enough to where I couldn't hear them. I slept out there. It was peaceful. When I came in the next morning, no one ever said a thing. 

I also spent some time, later on, playing my own game of "hide and seek". (This is not a game I'd dare again. Who knows who they really suspected!?)

They hid bottles, and I came upon them under the linens, in drawers, the wardrobe, etc. I would take them out to the woods, pour it all out, throw the bottles as far as I could. 

Satisfying sound. I remember one phase I went through where I would fill the bottles with water and replace them. ( I was really "feeling it" after all those years.) My brothers had already moved out.

Strangely enough, neither of my parents Ever said anything to me about any of it. I guess they knew....

This "Silent Disease" is really deafening at times, huh?

Mama and Daddy both stopped drinking when we explained to them that our new baby, Sherry, couldn't stay with them. I just wanted her to be safe, I told them. 

They both looked stricken, but honestly, I never intended it to ever hurt them. Soon, Mama went into a state hospital, staying months, and continued going to AA meetings. We went and took Sherry,(apparently the "golden child") twice a week when we were allowed.

Daddy had about stopped drinking anyway. He stayed with us from suppertime through breakfast and went on with his day.

Sherry was only 4 when Daddy died. We had Mama move in with us for almost a year. She found her calling just like her mother, (my precious Bammie). They both found many widows who were afraid to stay alone. So they, in their own eras, had them to look after! They loved them each one like family, and we got to know them, too.

I was 21 when Daddy died, the very same age Mama was when her daddy, 49, was hit and killed on the way home from a little store. He was found in a ditch. Maybe he didn't suffer, I hope; it was 10 days before Christmas Day that year.

Daddy's daddy passed away from cancer at age 49---when Daddy was 21.

Truth really is stranger than fiction, huh!

This post has really wandered more than usual---if you made it this far. From peaceful cows to this stuff. 😎

I wish peaceful thoughts to youall. ❤

                                                                               'the wanderer'