Calf Licking

Though it was my mom who is most remembered in our family for some of her unusual sayings, there were also some that my dad was well-known for speaking as well. And one of those I remember most distinctly is when he would say to me, "Sam, you've got to lick that calf over again." I have no idea why Daddy called me Sam, but he did just that throughout my whole life. Nothing in my name even remotely resembles the name Sam, but that's what Daddy called me ... even when he was afflicted with Alzheimer's, Daddy called me Sam. It didn't take me long to understand, however, what Daddy meant when he told me to lick my calf over again. The phrase meant that the task I had just performed wasn't done correctly or didn't meet his expectations, and I had to do it all over again. And yes, you can rest assured that I heard those words from my dad many, many times because getting things right the first time has never been one of my strongest abilities.

I still have a bit of curiosity left in my tired and weary brain, so at 3:00 a.m. this morning, I was reading about the origin of Daddy's phrase and what it meant. I discovered that it's very much a Southern expression, and more specifically (though not surprisingly), one that is often used among dairy farmers. The expression is derived from watching mother cows lick their newborn calves in order to remove the membrane that covers them when they are born. More often than not, it takes several "lickings" for the mama cow to get her baby cow clean and ready to experience the world. Sounds pretty gross to me, and definitely something I never want to witness in person. But more than one of the explanations I read on the meaning of the phrase said something like this ... "This expression is often used in reference to completing a task that is disagreeable in nature or execution, but one that is required to be performed because of honor or duty." Hmmm ... there's depth and meaning and teaching in that definition, which means that all those times my dad instructed me to "lick that calf over again," he was teaching me a lesson and imparting a deep truth to me. A lesson and a truth that has revealed itself to me all these years later ... in a big, huge, gigantic way.

Those of you who read this blog know that I've been sinking further into the darkness that's surrounded me for the last year or so. I've tried to be open and honest in my posts about the battles that accompany both diabetes and depression, sometimes receiving strong and loving encouragement from my readers and sometimes being blasted with hateful words and harsh judgments. I've attempted to share my journey because it may help someone else who's in the same place, because it seems to help to put the thoughts that torture my mind into words, because there are days when it's what keeps me real, when it's what keeps me breathing. So in the spirit of being open, honest, real and transparent ... I'm going to attempt to lick my calf over again, one more time. I went back to the doctor last week for the first time in a long time, accompanied by a friend who for some reason hasn't given up on me even though I've been nothing but a thorn in her heart since the moment we became friends.

My doctor has added two new medications to the plethora of pills I'm already taking, and I've struggled for the last couple of days with finding the strength and the courage to take them. I decided to wait until today to start the new meds because they can have some pretty intense side effects, including some that are very frightening, and I wanted to be home rather than at work in case they wreak havoc on my already worn out body and mind. I know how tired I am, physically, mentally and emotionally, and I know that these drugs need to work ... these drugs have to work. So ... I'm signing off to eat some breakfast and take the pills. I'm signing off to try one more time to lick my calf over again. I'm signing off to try to complete a task that is disagreeable in nature or execution, but one that is required to be performed because of honor or duty.

I know that many of you already do, and I know how hard the following words are for me to pen ... I could use some prayers from you, friends ... prayers for me physically as I take the new medications, prayers for my state of mind, prayers for my aching heart. I have a granddaughter who is due to enter the world any day now, and I would really like to have the chance to meet her, to hold her, to love her. Thank you to each one of you ... may God's peace cover your hearts and minds today, may you soak your souls in His love, may you treasure His grace and mercy with every fiber of your being.

"Wait for the Lord; be strong and let your heart take courage; yes, wait for the Lord." Psalm 27: 14.

Help me to wait upon You, Lord ... please, oh, please give my body strength and fill my heart with courage ... I'm tired and I'm weak, God ... help me to wait upon You.