Skip to main content

Where Do Squirrels Go?

 




Where Do Squirrels Go?

Quite often I ponder such thoughts, as when a fawn missteps, and has met its demise at an early age. Quite often at the hands of humans. I wonder about its mother and the feelings of which she may feel. I run past roadkill, and as I do I say an old prayer I learned at age four. I pray for its family. Then I ponder thoughts on the family that the creature has left behind. This happens, at least once a week on my daily runs.

I wonder, is it just that the creature has just left the earth; and it is completely no more? Or does its essence arrive somewhere else, intangible?  I do understand that it may very well be that deer, squirrels, bunnies and the like don’t have much pondering other than survival while they exist in their physical form on this earth. Probably.

As I reflect on times in my life when I’ve watched others in fear for their children’s lives or spouses' lives, I felt their concern. Yet, I’ve thought, why would anyone think mine would matter to me all that much. In essence, I am no more than a care giver. A picker-upper. Maybe I’m someone that makes you laugh. I am a good worker.  However, I know that all that I am, can easily be replaced. I have always seen it that way, pretty much.

For me, I don’t think it’s a bad way to look at life. When I went into the Marines, I knew long before it all, that it could be deadly to go into the military. Yet, to acquiesce inquiring parents, classmates and the like, my response was light. I made light of it. “It” is the possibility of my killing someone during conflict/war and or being killed myself. Being killed didn’t bother me. Killing someone, I wrestled quite a bit with that. You know you bargain with your Maker.  Well, that’s if you’re me. So, to forgive myself for knowing I may have to take an order and kill someone; I assured my Maker I knew it was wrong to take a life. However, I let my Maker know, I would only do it, if required. I never told anyone that.

I looked at my dying as a Marine, wasn’t so bad. Why? Because I’d accomplished what no man or woman in my family ever had. I was willing to run into danger. I didn’t need to be told or drafted to serve. I’m going to say that I’m NOT brave. I just see another angle. A bigger picture. I saw it and see it as opening doors for others, and if I survived for me. Possibly giving benefits to others by my choices. As well, defying the naysayers of what any girl, any woman could not be. And that is what I looked forward to. I live for that.

As well, I do know that when I pass, no one will ever know who I was. It’ll be just a stone slab with a name on it. The sun will beat down on it, the wind will blow on it. The rain will wear on it. Snows will come and go. It’ll become hot in the summer, warm in the spring and cold like ice in the winter. All the things I Love, will be right there. Where do the squirrels go…when they die? Who feels for them? Do they have a clue, an assuredness of Heaven and Hell? Does it matter?

We intertwine our lives on this earth. With the way some act, they apparently think they’ll always be here on earth in physical form. Truth be told, that’s not so. The stats are ninety-three percent of us, or thereabouts don’t really believe they’re ever going to die, until that day. I don’t feel what others feel. I contemplate my actions, my reactions as to how it matters in the next five seconds, five minutes, five years. No matter how we slice it, there is some kind of comeuppance at the end of each our lives. Trust me there is.

As well too, I believe and sense, yet not completely knowing, that I will feel a forest of trees, perhaps a smell pine and sit with the deer, bunnies and birds at some place in time. But what I do now, I figure out how I can do that here. Because here, now, is where it’s at.---Jody-Lynn Reicher


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

2023 Holiday Letter from the Reicher's

Well, I didn't think I'd be doing a Holiday Letter this year, but here goes... The Spirit of Norm is in the air. As the wind whips with minus a true snowstorm.  In hopes the Farmers Almanac was correct, I pray to the snow gods. Rain ensued the month of December thus far. We have nearly tripled the amount of rainfall usual for December in New Jersey. And I've witnessed its treachery. Storms such as these hit us hardest in July. Then remained fairly intense through til about early October.  Our daughters are doing well, Thank God.  Their Dad would be proud of them. Our oldest Sarah, now a Junior at UCLA pursuing her degree in Chemical Engineering. She's digging the whole California scene. Which I thought it was for her. She's had some good traveling on her off times from school. For her March 2023 week off, she drove her and a few friends out to Lake Tahoe and went downhill skiing for a first in nearly 5 years. She had to rent the ski equipment.  Funny enough when

It Follows Me...

One may wonder what would inspire someone to work hard labor voluntarily. For me it’s the love of many things. It’s the passion that won’t be broken. Because there are so many aspects to such service for me, that it may seem beyond comprehension. I’d compare it to my youthful desire to enter the military as a young child. Then for a multitude of reasons only to follow through thirteen years later at age eighteen entering the Marines. There were things that followed me throughout my life. Sometimes they were questions of how I ever gave up my over decade’s life dream to become a New Jersey State Trooper. My childhood desire to never wed—to never have any serious relationships with another human being. I desired only service in military and law enforcement nearly my whole childhood. Too the extent that even one of my Marine Corps superiors expressed to me last July, “I never thought you’d ever get married. It just wasn’t who you were. You were always a loner.” I replied, “Yeah. I know.

Sledging the Hammer

  "You could have a steam trainIf you'd just lay down your tracks..."---Peter Gabriel's 'Sledgehammer' lyrics. This is not the tune that lay in my mind this morning as I reminisced about yesterday's volunteers to help on trail crew.    However, as I looked up the proper definition of sledging that song popped up. I say sledging, which is my own take on swinging a hammer that we call a "Double Jack". The Single Jack is six pounds. I know that because our regular crew of five including me and one staff supervisor are handling Harriman State Park Trails, and have to carry about four of those, two shaping hammers, along with a hoist, belay bag with heavy equipment, first aid kit, double Jack, three 18lb rock bars, a lopper, three buckets, three eye to eyes, two burlap straps, two green wrapping straps, two pick Mattox, a roe hoe or two, a bar for either the two ton or one ton hoist, the feathers with pegs for splitting rocks that we drill... s