My “baby” turned 22 last week. She was born when I was 42 years old, and as my other 3 were older with lives of their own, she was the only child of mine who moved to the farm with me. She is the one who went through the loss of my work with Dell Puzzle Magazines, the selling of our furniture, seeing my horse taken away, enduring the loss of our home, traveling around North Carolina for months after we left the farm, the coming back here and staying on floors, couches and some late nights going to the vacation house to have beds to sleep on when the family who owns the home wasn’t using it. There is no way to express the guilt and shame I had (still have) that I could not provide a home for my daughter and our furry family. This young lady was my rock through it all. She never blamed me – or made me feel less. I was doing plenty of that myself and still am.
But late last spring, Megan loaded up Valentine, took our dog Fletch and one of our cats to stay in another location. She is renting the basement in a friend’s home. She has a half bath, but uses the family’s kitchen
and the bath upstairs for showers.
She had to go. No room here for two of us, and time for her to get on with trying to make a life. She worked at a horse stable and helped train horses (something she excels at). I don’t remember this horse’s name, but the owner was very
pleased with Megan’s work with him.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t making enough money and had to take a job in a factory for the time being, giving up at least temporarily the work she loves and was made for. Megan was with me for 21 years. We went on road trips together, grocery shopped, went to the library, read books together, painted our barns, tended our animals, planted bushes, flowers and our gardens – my youngest daughter and I.
Now I see her perhaps an hour or two a week, some weeks not at all. I know that this is how it has to be at this time, her with some of our animals in a different place and me here with the rest. I am usually okay with this, know it is not choice but necessity, but then, out of the blue, in a single instant, my heart hurts and tears spring to my eyes, taking my breath away. Tonight I am again missing my daughter.