Geese flying over my place form a wobbly “V”.
They call out to one another as they go and remind me that we all need help to hold it together.
I imagine that the stragglers in the flock want to give up.
Even instinct is not enough to overcome exhaustion.
I see it in my goat herd too. Wandering from weed to weed one or two inevitably miss the cue to move forward because their heads are down when the rest move on.
My favorite doe looks up and realizes she is alone. She bellows, begging the others to let her know which way to go.
Alone is hard.
Alone is scary.
And alone leaves me vulnerable to attack.
Every one of us, even the introverts and the boldly solitary, need to know that we are not really alone.
Left to myself, I’d give up. But with help, I can go on.
I’m so thankful I am not alone in this journey.
Not thankful that others know the pain of burying a child, but thankful that in our mutual loss and sorrow, we come together and cry “Courage” to one another.
I know when my race is through the ones who journeyed with me will be a huge reason I made it across the finish line.
That’s why I’m here.
That’s why I keep showing up.
Writing every day is a challenge. Sometimes the words are hard to find. But I’m committed to continue calling out as long as I have breath.
You. are. not. alone.