Reflections on the Harsh Resonance of Farm Life

Many of you know I’ve grown up on farms. In Jamaica, we had thousands of chickens  and a variety of fruit trees and plants and in Florida it was all all plants. When you live where your family works, it’s an extricable connection. As Mummy aged and my kids entered their teenage years, we decided that it was a good time for me to focus on the family instead of my legal career. It wasn’t an easy decision.  At that point, we had five goats as pets. We decided to start a creamery moved into a larger property and started building our herd from the bottom up.  

I wanted my children to understand where food came from. I wanted them to feel a connection with the earth that I had felt intrinsically my entire life. Four years later, we have delivered as a family over 50 kids, some joined our family others found amazing homes. We have an wonderful caprine vet who is there for us when we have challenges. We’ve lost kids and lost a beloved doe too. It’s hard and rocks you to your core. These animals trust you and love is ever present. 

This year, one  of our original five, Coco was taking a while to get into labor.  I was with her around the clock waiting for signs of active labor. Consulting with the vet from time to time even sleeping in the barn. Eventually we intervened, our vet came and together we found the goats were intwined, and for the first time on our farm- they were quintuplets. In those moments as much as you’re focused on those new lives, your heart and soul goes to the dedication and promise of the doe- she’s trusting you to keep her safe. We repositioned and helped, there was hope and anguish.

In the end, the doe was driven 2 hours to Tufts for an emergency c-section. We have done this before Ella and I, and the history weighed on us the entire drive. This time was different, the roads were quiet -the occasional food supply trucks and the cars that you had to believe at that hour ( 12-2 AM on the way there and 4-6 am returning home) were doctors and nurses and other essential workers. We debated the efficacy and ethics of getting emergency room doctors to come in in these crazy times. Both our vet and the Tufts doctors were so impassioned in the care of our girl- those questions subsided. 

Coco trusted us through it all - her head lovingly on my lap, Ella or Quinn’s as we tried to solve the issue. Her eyes so soulful and trusting, it is a privilege to know love like that and with that privileged comes a sense of purpose. Coco was licking me with kisses during the entire drive to Tufts. None of the five little souls survived, likelihood is they had passed before we intervened.

We have a lot to learn from these animals - their simplicity and resilience is inspirational. No teacher or spiritual leader can teach us more. 

All of this is to say that life is precious, connections are everything. Death should never be senseless and you should, wherever possible, be in the company of people you know and trust.

Several family members and life long friends have reached out lately and I’ve been quiet. I’m sorry. I’ve been away from my mother and husband for a month trying to keep them healthy. Here, I am focused on kidding season and my human kids.  I keep waiting for perfect time to call you but I think somehow I’m petrified that in those moments I’m going to let go- allow the fear and loss to get in and engulf me because you know me too well.