After yesterday’s sad turn of events with the baby chicks, I started to really question my chicken-raising dreams. I tend to get swept up by the romance and beauty of ideas–in this case, the notion of enjoying these wonderful creatures who would also provide us with fresh eggs right in our backyard. While I also see the realism behind the romance (all the work involved etc.), I don’t tend to focus on or prepare myself for the really dark possibilities–like baby chicks dying right in your hands.
Since I’ve been dealing with a lot of loss in my personal life, I started to think that maybe this wasn’t such a good time to be inviting the potential for even more grieving. But as strong (and in many ways, reasonable) as this self-protective urge was, my larger belief system was ultimately stronger. Given the opportunity, I always have to say “yes” to the adventure of life. Even though being open and vulnerable to all of what life brings can at times be brutally painful, I wouldn’t want to trade it for being closed down and shut off.
With that in mind, I forced myself to get back on up to the farm supply store and get a new chick. Unfortunately they had sold out of the Barred Rocks and wouldn’t be getting any more this season. So my dream of having one in my flock (at least for now) died with “Tuesday.” But they did have White Rocks, the next best thing.
When I brought her home, the boys wanted to name her Tuesday in honor of the hen we lost. So now we have a “new Tuesday.” She is the quintessential little yellow “Easter” chick. While we all still feel very sad about the death of the original Tuesday, we are happy to have this new sweet addition to our family and to being open to everything yet to come.