lay me the garden/ Jack-Jack

February 6, 2008

The beautiful song below was playing in my ears last night as I cruised down the busy streets to trivia. A memory washed over me:

The same week the sixth Harry Potter came out, I found a baby jackrabbit. I thought he was lost after a recent flood; he seemed to be nursing on a cactus. He was so tiny but had these beautiful, long silky ears that stretched down his back. Allen and I were on a walk and after some discussion, we decided to take him home. A few months earlier I had nursed a three week old kitten for the Humane Society- Yoda, for the way his ears moved when he ate.

The vet said to mix Pedia-lite and goat's milk and administer it via bottle, so we tried that with this little guy as well, with Jack-Jack.

Touch is really important to all mammals and especially baby ones, so I held him next to my heart every chance I had. I'd lay on the couch reading Harry Potter and he's ride my breath up and down, twitching his nose, having his ears stroked. He came with me to church, to the store, on walks. I loved that Jack-Jack. It was so beautiful to see him grow and change- the first time he lifted his ears off his back, the first day he jumped across the Airstream, his first nibble of grass. He was moving from baby to rabbit right before my eyes. It was a miracle.

He usually jumped inside his box in the morning, but one Saturday there was no movement. It appeared he had emptied his stomach all over the blankets, his body was cool, his eyes tired, he couldn't muster enough energy to hop. I knew he was sick, but I didn't know why.

Was grass introduced too soon? Did I not wash the bottle well enough?

I lifted him up to my heart and held him there for all the morning chores. We had to run to the town for milk and I took him with me, laid him in the box for the ride, and covered him with a blanket. When we got to the store... I could just feel it. I slid the blanket over and he was smaller somehow, breath stopped, eyes glazed, ears sunken to the side of his body. His soul had left. I started wailing.

Allen, four steps from the truck, said nothing. Just about-faced, gently closed my door and drove me back home. I muttered tear-filled gibberish the whole drive back, completely inconsolable. There was something so wrong, so painful about the senseless loss of innocent life. There wasn't room in my heart to understand it, to take it all in. I felt guilty, hopeless, and so, so sorry.

There's a mile of dirt road before the ranch and about a quarter in, I asked Allen to pull over. I had an uncontrollable urge to lay Jack-Jack in a patch of swaying tall grass, let him return to the earth just as he would have if I had never found him, had never touched him. Allen protested- there were so many good trees and special spots near our home- why here? I don't know. I just had to let him go this way. I laid his limp body right on the earth, let the weeds and blades of grass fold over him and said goodbye. I never saw him again, never could find the spot. I'd just wave on every trip to work and home, somewhere in his general direction, in the direction of all the wilderness I'll never understand, that I'll return to myself one day.

__________________
Garden
Gregory Alan Isakov
(Not entirely sure I got all the words right, but this is what I hear)

On the long road, we are just trees
Waving in the wind storm
We are slow wheels
We are potholes
And it passes
Just like lightening
When it's over
We remember nothing

Lay me in the garden
Lay me in the garden
So I can feed you
Lay me in the garden
And I may live beneath your skin

On the long road, we are tall weeds
Misplaced and misconceived
We are wind blown
I want to go with you
And there's too many streets and avenues
From me to you

Lay me in the garden
Lay me in the garden
So I feed you
Lay me in the garden X5
There's too many streets and avenues
Lay me in the garden
From me to you