I didn’t know that heartbreak was something you could see. But let me tell you, it is. When you see three generations of family, tradition and agriculture burned to the ground, that is visible heartbreak.
The barn walk that I spent my life on, can’t even be seen through the ashy rubble.
We used to have a window that faced Highway 69. Every morning during milking I would curse that window because the sun would glare in my eyes as I moved down the walk. Now, I’d give anything to have that window back and to stand on the walk one more time. If only the glare of the sun was my biggest problem.
Today, the ashes still smolder and the smell of smoke is a harsh reminder of the realities that we face.
Heartbreak is something that I am familiar with. Every time you lose someone you love, or have to say goodbye to your favorite show cow, your heart breaks. Until today, heartbreak was physical pain inside your chest, hidden from the rest of the world. Today, for the very first time, I witnessed visible heartbreak.