Getting Real

The other day, when I found out about Lucy’s accident, I was actually fixin’ to head out the door to drive to Dallas and meet my friend Becky for dinner. I seriously considered calling to cancel, but I didn’t for a couple of reasons. I couldn’t get my head around how to cancel and going just seemed easier. But mostly, Becky is my oldest and dearest friend and I knew that seeing her would make me feel better.

Becky and her husband Ralph, who is just the kindest, most darling man who ever walked the earth.

I don’t have the space or time or words to adequately describe my friend Becky here. She is brilliant (she’s a lawyer and clerked for Supreme Court Chief Justice William Burger after law school) but she’s also very wise. She’s one of those beautiful women who gets even more beautiful as she ages. She is passionate about everything and funny and fun. And she is the most empathetic, compassionate person I’ve ever know.

Oh, and when she talks she has the ENTIRE state of Louisiana in her voice.

I’ve known Becky for nearly 20 years and she has always- ALWAYS- been there for me. She was exactly the person I wanted to see when I didn’t know if my dog was going to live or die and I felt like the whole world was falling down around my ears.

We met for sushi and I poured my heart out to her, holding back tears. I told her about Lucy and about my financial crisis and that I didn’t know how I could possibly carry on. Becky listened to me (she’s great at that) and then she ask me why I hadn’t written about any of this on the blog.

“Because,” I sobbed, “my readers think I’m courageous and brave. They have no idea that I make mistakes, doubt my own judgement and beat myself up all the time. They don’t know that I sometimes think about giving up or wish someone would come along and rescue me from all this. They think I’m great.”

And then Becky did something that would have ENRAGED me coming from anyone else in the world. She laughed. Loudly. At me. And at the ridiculous things I was saying.

She then very gently pointed out to me that none of my readers could possibly believe that I am perfect and that that’s not why they read my blog in the first place. And she encouraged me to go home and write about Lucy and all the pressures we’ve been under and how I was really feeling. “People will help you if you let them, ” she said. “And they won’t stop loving you just because you’re human.”

And she was right. The outpouring of love and support we received from all of you after I wrote about the troubles I been going through has been just amazing. I got emails that I will treasure for the rest of my life. I also received enough donations to get Lucy the care she needed.

The other thing Becky did was tell me that it’s time to stop feeling sorry for myself and work my way out of this situation. And that was exactly what I needed to hear. My dear friends Charlie and Kris said something similar last weekend. And you know what? They were right. Sometimes you need the people who love you to kick your ass, you know?

Some how, the very worst thing that could happen has turned into the very best thing. I am reinvigorated and ready to do whatever it takes to keep my flock happy and healthy and to get things back on track.

And to you, my dear, loyal, supportive readers, I make this promise. You will no longer get a sanitized, dolled-up, fairy tale version of farm life when you come here. I am going to try hard to show you all the sides of this life I am building. And I hope you will enjoy it even more knowing that I’m keeping it real.