Cowgirls Don't Cry
March 5, 2009 
Dad passed on last October. October 5th, to be exact... I'm pretty sure I'll never forget that date, nor will the rest of my family. He was 79. It was his time.
Since then, the emotions have been, in a word, profound. I have come to learn that grieving is its own unique process, that really nothing else compares to it. You can reconcile things in your mind rather quickly if you try, but reconciling the emotions of your heart takes far longer. One day I will feel at peace, calm, accepting. The next day the emotions roll over me like waves, overcoming me both emotionally and physically, and I feel like every part of my being is weeping.
I know that's rather abstract, but I just don't know how else to describe it. Grieving seems to be, to me, not just an emotional process but a physical one as well.
I keep hearing the song 'Cowgirls Don't Cry' by Brooks & Dunn on the radio ALL the time, it's so popular right now. For the most part I shy away from any emotionally charged songs these days, lest I embark on yet another complete meltdown. However, this song I can handle. At first it made me shed a few tears -- this story of a daughter and her father, ending in his last words to her before dying -- but now when I hear it, I sort of feel at peace.
Dad and I very much had a relationship similar to the one in this song... He and I traveled all over the region to rodeos and horse sales as I was growing up. I was told, in not so many words, more than once to get back on the horse and buck up. At the same time, my Dad was in many ways one of the most understanding people I have ever known. He knew his share of hard times and mistakes and I believe that shaped his spirit of empathy for others. In him, as in most of us, existed the duality of sinner and saint.
Even though this song always gets me a bit, I always feel good at the end when the lyrics conclude...
Cowgirl, don't cry. Ride, baby, ride.
Lessons in life show us all in time, too soon God will let you know why.
If you fall get right back on. The good Lord calls everybody home.
Cowgirl, don't cry.
When I hear those words, "The good Lord calls everybody home," it warms my aching heart. I know that he indeed is home, and I ache a little less inside.
Reader Comments (6)
thank you for sharing this. The theme of loss has been heavy on my heart these past few weeks and that last photo made me smile.
I stumbled onto your blog and loved it. Beautiful photo of your dad! Very beautiful thoughts. You are a wonderful daughter.
Thank you for stopping in! I popped over to your blog too... Can't beat the irony of bodily fluid samples sitting next to lunch, huh? That's one of those thing better left unexamined... Funny stuff. :)
Auntie LaLa. I am so addicted to your blog! my mom just told me about it the other day and I have since than read EVERY thing on it... I can't believe how big miss peaches is since the last time I saw her!! and it was only a couple months ago. I love this blog about grandpa... I was at the Tucson rodeo last weekend and there was a group of older gentlemen sitting in front of us talking and I just started crying. But they were happy tears- I know in the last 5 months Grandpa has attended EVERY rodeo and every time the clock hit 8 seconds or the roper got is ropee :) he was yellin BINGO!!!
Chuckle. Oh, yes, that brings me happy tears too.
Farmer Gal, after our back-and-forth over the parsnips I wanted to check out your blog too. I'm glad I did.
This post about your dad is precious. I always think of my dad (who died too young of cancer) when I hear Garth Brooks' "The Dance." It gives me a little peace to think that even though his last months were so hard on him that he wouldn't have traded it if it meant missing out on all the rest.
I'm enjoying your writing. I'm gonna subscribe now so I can keep up with you.
Michelle
http://oneordinaryday.wordpress.com/