Healing Powers of Corn?

The last month has been a rough one, to say the least. August 12, 2009 is one of those days I'd like to just forget. I'm one of those people who look for the silver lining, but I admit that I really wasn't sure if I'd be able to find any good in losing two amazing people.

Maddie
I just don't know what to say. I searched high and low for a card to send to Jetta, but couldn't find one I felt was appropriate. I needed one that said something like, "My heart is breaking over the loss of such a sweet little girl. I'm also completely pissed at how unbelievably unfair life is!" (Okay, I did some serious editing there.) My pain has turned to anger because I really don't understand why she had to leave so soon. Her organs were donated, so whoever recieved them had better do something completely remarkable.

Faye
Faye's passing hit us all a little harder than what we were expecting it to, I think. My grandma had 2 brothers - Charles and Faye, no sisters. Charles married (cancer took him in 1984), but never had children, and Faye remained a bachelor all his life. So, when Faye left, the Stewart name kind of went with him. Charles' widow, Irene, is still here with us, and my younger brother's middle name is also Stewart, but there are no more boys to carry on the last name. In some ways, Faye was also our last link to my grandma, who was taken from us way to soon (she lost her fight with Ovarian Cancer in 1988). The family farm was sold a few years ago to a man who is related by marriage (Irene's nephew), and he is letting our beloved farmhouse fall apart. Do you remember Scarlett O'Hara's dad telling her how important the land is, and how much she loved Tara? That's how we feel about the farm. The farm was Faye's life, so he was laid to rest with a small jar filled with his land. I miss his "farmer talk". I miss talking to him and realizing how fulfilling a simple, uncomplicated life can be. I miss the M&M's he used to buy for my brothers and me. I miss climbing on the stacks of hay bales, getting chased out of the chicken coop by the rooster, riding Sandbur, catching snails in the horse tank, feeding the calves, exploring the hills. I miss him. He was ready, though. He had become friends with a local pastor (Faye has always been a Christian, but has never belonged to a church). The pastor was telling us about a few weeks before Faye passed. They had driven out to the farm, and when they got there, the pastor shut the car off, rolled down the windows, and Faye just laid his head back and closed his eyes as a breeze blew threw the car. Faye just sat there, eyes closed, taking deep breaths, taking it all in. There's no better smell than the air at the farm.

Losing so much all at once made me feel lost. I felt like I was suffocating and was afraid that I was sinking into a depression. I was seriously considering seeing a therapist. Then, a couple of weeks ago, I was driving home from town and happened to notice the corn. It was beautiful. The photo above doesn't do it justice. The corn is starting to turn from green to a gorgeous golden brown, just waiting to be harvested. I saw the waves of green mixed with gold and the purple tassles dancing up to meet the bright blue sky filled with fluffy white cotton, and I felt a calming peace fall over me.

Life is good.