closure, prehaps?

For me, chapter 21 could have been the beginning of a new, very short book. Walker seemed to stop tip-toeing around these big questions she has been living with and is instead on a more direct search for answers. Or maybe shes not so much searching for answers now as happening upon them. She spends much of the beginning of the chapter discussing how hidden memories are reappearing due, in part to the "...chicken and her babies in Bali so long ago..."(p101), yet does not tell us what about this chicken family brought about these memories, or even what, specifically these memories are. By leading us back in time through her memory we get a sense that Walker's failing memory was once used to protect her, but while exploring and expanding these memories we feel a sense of growth and of acceptance. That there is often pain connected to forgotten memories, but that if you dig deep enough you will discover the joy in these memories too. "But in order to forget Buddy she had to forget the pine tree under which he was tethered much of the time, the same tree under which he was shoot." (p.108) The intertwine-ment of these opposing feelings, hope and joy, loss and sorrow seem to shape Walkers journey and growth through this book.
In the last half of this book Walker seems to be more introspective than at first. Her questions seem more aimed at her own life than as general questions about life. She digs deeper into her own spirituality, pondering over what is right and wrong. "HOW CAN HUMANITY/look the deer/in/the face?/How can I,/having erected/my fence?" (p.111) Something about this poem stuck with me. It seems so simple, yet the questions it posses are very deep. Walker is obviously apart of humanity, and yet she includes herself separately from them in this poem, though they are both hurting the deer. In this poem you get a sinking feeling of guilt, of becoming what you once fought against. How can you fix this, I feel that is the question. And Walker is quick to ponder over how to answer it. "Often that is what stupidity really is. Not knowing what to do. You see the problem; it troubles your heart; but you have no idea what your part is in making a change." (p.122) How universal is that?!? Once you have the memories back, and you can see the problem, knowing how to begin to heal can be the hardest part, and often it can be so daunting it is never attempted. But Walker can see that and so instead of beating herself up for being 'stupid' or not immediately having the right answer she gives herself time to learn and adjust. Her chickens often help her to get past this stage of not knowing what to do. At the start of chapter 30, she refers to them as "Dear Feathered Mysteries" (p.145); Walker is always learning from these birds, they offer her a place to meditate and to reflect. Her gentleness to them, and the fact she refers to herself as their Mommy shows how much she respects everything they have to give her, from their eggs, to their beauty to their mystery. I get the feeling that while perhaps as a child she did get some of this kind of love and appreciation, she was not in a place where she could fully receive it. "...many old humans have said: Never abuse or harm a child, because s/he may go away so far s/he may never come back...And, not being there, she could not appreciate how they suffered too, along with her. She could not see, or pay attention to, the fact that they loved her." (p152-153). Obviously Walker had been hurt, but she never directly states what has hurt her and I feel that just being able to have the memory that she was hurt was enough for her to start to heal. Earlier in the book she is determined to find out what, exactly happened to her chickens when they die, but her relationship with death and with mystery has evolved. While she is still curious, she is able to let go and accept without having a full fledged investigation. This relaxed acceptance seems to lead to closure for Walker.