Remembering. . . .

I'm sitting at the computer, beside me scrambled eggs from my own chickens, ripe tomatoes and small zucchini from the garden; and I just came in from a walk around my property where I

• Took pictures of my two crias just born within the past two days
  
• Pet my Anatolian Shepherd Tzadi
  
• Collected eggs from my chickens
• Watched fish swim in the pond
• Tested the mini kiwis for ripeness(almost)
• Looked at the kumquats and thought how I'd need to learn how to use them
• Picked a few sunflowers
• Gazed at the blue sky, the trees swaying gently in the breeze, the green and brown fields

And I'm unbelievably sad. The reason I can do this on "my property" is because tomorrow will mark the one month "anniversary" of my brother's death.

My brother was my best friend and he died suddenly on August 8, 2008. Brad had an alpaca farm in Troy, Idaho, that is now mine. As one of my friends said, the farm is a double-edged sword. It's a blessing and a joy; it stands for loss and emptiness.

In Analyze That (a terribly funny movie with the line that runs constantly through my mind), Billy Crystal aptly and repeatedly says of grieving, "It's a process."

So I look out of the window, I know that one day I'll be able to do the same things with a little less ache in my heart, fewer tears in my eyes, and a sense of Brad's presence that will bring joy and comfort.

You can visit BigMeadowCreekAlpacas.com
and click "In Memorium" to read more about Brad.