House Lamb Gets A Name
We don't name most of our sheep. Generally, the wooly creatures do not live their full lives on our small amount of land and naming them makes the process of letting go horribly difficult. I'd say we avoid naming lambs for the kids' sake, but really that protective barrier is as much (or more) for me.
All the same, even without a name, we've been attached to this almost-didn't-make-it lamb and we've alternated between calling him House Lamb and Little Guy.
Sometimes we have to prepare ourselves for loss, as best we can, using whatever means we think will work. This last week reminded me, however, that we never really prepare ourselves for loss, no matter how we try.
Last week, my sister-in-law, Penny, my brother's beloved wife, died of leukemia.
I knew she wasn't doing well. I knew it was coming. I'd kind-of, sort-of even prepared myself for it.
But really, preparing ourselves for loss is crap. We love. We grieve. It hurts.
So this week, despite my will to accept the vagaries of life, I take whatever measure of control is mine. House lamb has a name and a home.
I'd say we're keeping him for the kids, but you all know better.