Friday, February 3, 2023
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As I close my eyes, I can see before me the worn path leading from my home to the corner of my pasture, and me ducking between the barbwire fence, being careful not to catch my clothes or scratch my legs on the barbed wire, as I head towards Cathy's. But I do not remember a well-worn path across Cathy's pasture, and it puzzles me...until I remember having to take a different path across Cathy's field each time I visited her to give her cow, Missy, as wide of a birth as possible and to give me as much of a running head start as possible.
I remember one of the days when Missy gave chase to Cathy and me when we were walking across the pasture. We ran...and I remember reaching Cathy's gate that led into her yard, breathless from running, only to turn around, horrified to see that Missy had pinned Cathy up against the barn. I was screaming at Missy, but Cathy had a quiet determined look on her face as she squiggled between Missy's two horns.
I am not sure how Cathy managed to wiggle out from Missy, however, I was amazed at her courage in doing so; and now, fifty-some years later, there I was again, looking at Cathy, and admiring her courage in dealing with the challenges that were now lying ahead of her.
Throughout our childhood, we were lucky in a sense, of the freedom we had growing up. Meeting up on hot summer evenings with our neighbours to play kick-the-can or scrub until dusk, when we would all magically disperse, each going our separate ways, heading for home. To skating on the homemade rink in the winter and then sitting around the fire to warm our frozen toes. As I remember, I can see Cathy's beautiful smile, hear her contagious laugh, and see the way her eye crinkled in the corners, making her eyes sparkle and turn an even more brilliant blue.
Cathy, you have a new journey ahead of you. Each time I return to the Valley, I will listen on the wind for your beautiful voice singing, and hope to hear your laugh echoing through the canyons.
Rest in peace, my ol' friend.
Patty
