Cows and salsa dancing


A lot of times, life is laughing through tears.

Rain when the sun is out.

Friday night was date night and we went to our neighborhood restaurant that was filled and now has salsa dancing with a live singer. Young couples looked at us like we were nuts. Older couples smiled. Hueros attempting to salsa.

“Is this a THING now?” asked Mr. W

“Oh yea.” said I

My 18 year old feet remembered being embraced by a welcoming Costa Rican family long ago. On Saturday night, everyone goes dancing: the kids, young ones and grandma. So there we all were; my newfound crush, his family, parents, sisters, little kids and grandma dancing the salsa and merengue until the wee hours. I felt weightless, happy, young, and free. My only care was explaining to my terrified parents the next morning that I hadn’t disappeared and been hacked to pieces in the jungle by these young men we met on the beach that day. Phones in Costa Rica 31 years ago were only on during the day and petrol stations didn’t open until morning.

Back to present day.

Saturday we went to the ranch for the first time since our horse and donkey were put down after the horse went blind in the bitter winter.

I cried as soon as we arrived.

I looked for the donkey’s big bunny ears.

I could hear the horse’s soft nickering in my mind.

Carrots were still in the fridge.

But my babies are gone.

Tears streamed as I read letters of sympathy.

The ranch felt like a foreign dead thing that we didn’t own.

But then, the sun shone and the adorable giant carpenter bees came to our back door as they always do in Spring. They let me talk to them but never pet them. “Go get your brother!” They chased.

I giggled.

And then onto the Polaris we went. Me juggling my Diet Coke on ice in one hand and my chest that has been fairly uncontained since I lost my good Soma bra somewhere in all the madness in the other. Lord.

Soon, we saw them-the herd of errant cattle in the woods, far from where they neeed to be.

“Hya! Hya!” We rustled them through various fences and they obeyed. We closed gates, then put the horse’s last cookie treats on the dirt road for them. I crinkled the food bag and they almost fell for it.

I was so glad the cows were there.

Our loved ones want us to go on. 

To live.

And “mama’s” looking forward to salsa dancing again next Friday.

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