How are you doing?

Today as  I was running, I was thinking about how we all lie pretty much every single day, in the form of an answer to a simple passing question. Let me explain a little better. How many times in your life have you been asked, "How are you?" By an acquaintance or random passerby and merely responded with "fine."? Sure some of those "fines" were legit, but I would guess that more than a handful of times, "fine", was a bold faced lie. Or I mean, it could just be me. I am definitely guilty of this. Sometimes it's a "selfless" gesture, in that it is only in attempt to spare the "asker" from having to sit through a story that I am more than fairly convinced the other person doesn't really care to hear. While I'm sure they would be just as enthralled as I am by the fact that I can't clean the chicken crap off my walkway fast enough (the joys of free-ranging) , or that all my husband fed our 4 year old ALL DAY while I was running errands was a large sprite and bag of Cheetos, I guess I'm just not willing to take the risk on the off chance that for some odd reason they are (in which case I would ask them just exactly how many cats it was that they are harboring).

Another reason that "I" toss out fine like it's on fire and couldn't come outta my mouth fast enough, is because sometimes, I'm being selfish. I know that the person who asked would be genuinely interested in what I had to say, but I don't feel like interrupting my agenda to take the time to engage them with a true to life answer. A simple "fine" will afford me the luxury of staying on task so that I get done what I need to do (notice the plethora of I statements in the last rant which I highlighted for you just incase), while leaving satisfied and none the wiser. Win win right?

Lastly, there is another type of fine that I would like to address as it is this particular use of the word I found myself  utilizing today. And this particular use that got me thinking about all the others while on my aforementioned run.

My husband and I drove separately to church this morning as we had separate errands that needed to be run. He finished his beforehand, while mine needed to take place after, so he offered to take our son home while I did just that. Upon arriving home, I was greeted by a loud chorus of bleeting goats, which is not all that uncommon. I raced past them and inside on a mission to get dressed and go for a run before lunch. While the initial greeting from the goats was not out of the ordinary, the fact that I could still hear them just as loudly while changing in my closet, was.

I knew that they had been fed and watered before we left as they always take first priority in the mornings. And while they are all SUPER PREGNANT, I could see Eve, the one who would most definitely be a nursing mommy sooner than the other two, and she was just as "festively plump" as she had been when I left, so I KNEW it wasn't babies yet. I figured that they must have come up with some new and clever way to spill their food which seemed to be something they plotted collectively and thoroughly enjoyed tormenting me with. I had tried MANY MANY different methods of keeping this from happening, each and every one thorted within hours. This last attempt by way of rope, cinder blocks and a well placed caribbeaner seemed to have done the job. Rolling my eyes as I stepped out the door, GPS watch set and ready to go, water bottle in hand, I made what I hoped would be a quick pit stop by the goat's pen. Eve and Story met me at the gate, as my eyes shot back to where we kept the feed trough, still there, SCORE one for me!

Then my gaze was drawn to the manger where I could see Sadie laying.

And that was it. She was just sorta "laying" there. Sadie, the one who is ALWAYS first to greet me, who even though he terrorized the living daylights out of all of them, still came to my 4 year old for bread and "cuddles", the other goat's "go-to" for protection MY LEAD GOAT, wasn't moving. My heart pounded as I opened the stall door. I called to her, demanding a response. Nothing. Not even a faint "baaaa". Suddenly I felt like Ed Haris in the movie the abyss. She didn't budge. My sweet Sadie girl was gone. Just. like. that.

My head was spinning, a thousand thoughts and questions, trying to choke the "action" outta me and I guess that's when my "mommy-mode" kicked in. I immediately called the vet. If she had been sick, this now posed a threat to my other babies, I lost one, and my job was to make sure that all the others were safe. While it looked to be internal complications due to the pregnancy, this was not just a matter you "took a stab in the dark and hoped for the best" with.

The veterinarians were "stretched a little thin today" as they had informed me. They assured me that we were a "high priority" and that they would be there as soon as they could. And that's when I ran. Just ran. For me, running helps clear my head, process thoughts. A lot of good comes out of running. For me it does anyways.

I was about a mile in, when an older gentleman doing yard work on this beautiful Sunday and I made eye contact. I smiled and gestured a small, gratuitous wave. And there it was, "How are you doing?" To which of course, I replied "fine!" And we ALL now know that that simply wasn't true. This type of fine, I believe is a culmination of the other 2. Wanting to spare the person asking as well as mildly seasoned with a selfish underlying tone, the difference in this instance, for me at least, and maybe you can identify, was that self preservation had been added to the mix. I wasn't ready to truly answer the question. The hurt was so raw, that I hadn't even begun to fully grasp how NOT fine I was. I was grieving, scared, anxious and disheartened to say the very least. And right now, the "very least" is all I had had the chance to even remotely process through. "I just lost my favorite goat, one of my babies". Just wasn't something I was ready to belt out to some complete and total stranger, it wasn't something I was really even ready to say quietly to myself.

The vets came, the autopsy was done on site. It was as we thought. They told us that she was severely under developed for how far along she was. They also added a tiny piece of news that was both bitter and sweet, Sadie would have had triplets.

I cried as they gently wrapped her body, and I swear you wouldn't believe it unless you were here as a first hand witness, but "Brewster the Rooster" who has not yet mastered the art of the "crow", as if he were honoring her, like one would a fallen soldier with "taps" stood somberly by, all alone, and crowed. Crowed so beautifully, and so many times that I lost count somewhere between that and the tears streaming down my face. And that, is the TRUTHFUL answer as to how I am REALLY doing.

How are you doing... Really?