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Although I've known for months now that we have to move and leave our idyllic wee farm, the reality of it hit me, hard, this morning.
I fed Beau, tidied up his stall, filled the water bucket and brushed the night's accumulation of mud and crud from his coat - and realized that he's moving on tomorrow morning. I'm selling or giving away most of my horse and barn stuff and essentially watching my lifelong dream of living on a farm and having my horse at hand die.
So I sat on a bucket and sobbed. Hoover, the dog, didn't know WHAT to do other than sit and lick my salty face while I howled for a while in utter misery.
The realities of growing older include reduced physical strength and stamina with which to handle the chores that need to be done to maintain a place like this. But, since it took me a lifetime to find this spot, it truly breaks my heart to leave - even though I know we have to.
For the past several weeks I've been deluding myself that it's ok; that I'm excited about having a new house and new appliances (which I am). But, it still doesn't compensate for the sense of loss I'm feeling or the torrent of tears that need to be shed.
Nevertheless, I'm resilient to a fault and will, no doubt, bounce back and move on as one must do in this life.
