Farm on the M62: Life, loss and the birth of new hope - Jill Thorp
The cold, grey mornings have done nothing to improve our spirits following a truly awful period where too many good friends have been lost. It’s been an incredibly difficult year for us and one which I’ll be glad to see the back of.
The Yorkshire stoicism that most of my ancestors were well-versed in seems to have bypassed me and the overwhelming sadness of the last six months has hit hard.
After thirty two years, Ffiona my beloved Welsh Mountain pony who had been my foundation mare quite suddenly left us. Bought from a breeder in North Wales she had been a truly wonderful mare, giving me some beautiful foals. Despite her advancing years, her loss came so quickly and caught me quite off guard. How easily we convince ourselves that they’ll last forever, afraid to admit that age has caught up with them and difficult decisions have to be made. But as with everything in her life, she left with no fuss, no drama. Her beautiful heart failed and she quietly laid down in the field, with me next to her. It doesn’t seem to matter how much death I see; an inevitability when you keep large numbers of livestock, you can never quite harden yourself to certain losses and hers quite simply broke me. She died on the exact same day her grandson did, three years later and is now buried next to him, facing west, towards the mountains of North Wales back to the home of her ancestors.
The loss of a very dear childhood friend that same week, knocked the last bit of stuffing out of me. His friendship along with that of his twin brother had been so very special to me growing up and the world will certainly be a darker place without him. There have been so many tears shed in our home recently, so much loss and sadness and at times it’s been difficult to find light amongst the darkness. But I read recently that you should never quite let grief leave you, carrying it with you is a constant reminder of how lucky we are to have experienced loving someone so much that you will miss them for the rest of your life.
I sometimes wonder if our Yorkshire stubborn grit and reluctance to acknowledge emotions and grief are what lead to such high levels of poor mental health, especially within the farming community. The “muddle through, just get on with it” mentality so widely accepted amongst Yorkshire farmers is perhaps now catching up with us and I’ve often thought that emotions should never be suppressed or not talked about. It is here that my pride and irrefutable love of all things Yorkshire perhaps falters and that one trait we are so well known for needs to be gone.
The painful yet wondrous cycle of life continues and from death there is life. In amongst the tears and loss and of course the first named storm of the season, that has well and truly battered our little farm for several days, a new life has arrived. A perfect little, eagerly awaited baby that has brought so much happiness to good friends of ours. It has been the best of news and most definitely the light we have so desperately been hoping for.