12 replies
  1. Becky Myrick
    Becky Myrick says:

    I’m so glad your wrote about your experience in the game park. When I was there, I was with my 14 yrs old niece who has had one surgery after another due to her spinal bifida. Her laughter was a huge release for both of us as the head of a giant yak blessed her with its tongue. As for my own reaction, I couldn’t tell from moment to moment if my screams were of fear or delight.
    Animals bless us with their lack of judgement of their own response to life’s surprises.

    Thank you, Cynthia, for all the people and animals you have brought new life to.

    Reply
    • Cynthia Trenshaw
      Cynthia Trenshaw says:

      That mix of fear and delight – isn’t it a delicious, unpredictable feeling?!
      And the rare opportunity to scream it out loud . . . I loved it!
      (And the critters didn’t seem to mind, so long as I let loose of the slices of bread in my hands.)

      Reply
  2. Richard Burdsal
    Richard Burdsal says:

    Cynthia, really glad I read this one. Thank you for your welcoming tone that invites me into the sacred space of your writing. Your stories provoked me to experience a gentle grief. I wondered, I have read that grief never really ends. But I can’t say I have grieved as well as you describe. So I ask you, do you still experience at least soft tears of grief and perhaps gratitude for your losses?

    Reply
    • Cynthia Trenshaw
      Cynthia Trenshaw says:

      Richard, the grief I described in this post was not only for the death of the nasty cat and for the death of my father, but also for the death of my teenage son, as well as other losses. There was only one other time that I grieved in this intense way, and that was just after my husband died. In my experience, grief does go away, but the memories don’t. And the ways that the losses have shaped who I am do not go away either. But since the memories are mostly good (or at least bittersweet), and since I like who I have become, I do not grieve long over losses. Interestingly, I tend to weep more over happy things, and beautiful things. I cry more in gratitude than in grief. Thank you for your thoughtful comments, and for your wonderful question.

      Reply
  3. Claudia Walker
    Claudia Walker says:

    Wonderful stories Cynthia! I love how you find meaning and wonder: the surrender that requires and willingness to experience emotion fully, trusting it wherever you may find it. I’m so grateful for your discipline in sharing it with us!

    Reply
    • Cynthia Trenshaw
      Cynthia Trenshaw says:

      And I am SO grateful for those who come along on these adventures. It’s wonderful to share moments of wonder . . . and of wondering!

      Reply
  4. Sue Wright
    Sue Wright says:

    We too went to the Olympic Game Farm with our children, all be it 40some years ago. It was an hilarious time for us as well. Four kids in the back seat, Larry and I in the front. Chaos reigned when a one-horned buffalo put his WHOLE head in the car. We were trapped. All of us a slobbery mess until we could make our getaway. So much fun. Saying “goodbye” to all my four-legged friends have been heartbreaking but I wouldn’t trade the sadness for all the years of joy and unconditional love they gave. A lesson I try to remember.

    Reply
  5. Sarah
    Sarah says:

    Cynthia you make me laugh. You make me cry. You give me the gift of yak slobber! No wonder you were in an existential emergency with that big blue tongue drooling!! Ah woman!

    Reply

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