Feeling weepy today

This is unusual, because I very seldom get weepy.  It isn't hormones.  I went through the change so long ago, I barely recall what it was like.  
Have you ever had this happen?  It's a beautiful spring day, the birds are singing and the flowers are getting ready to bloom.  You're walking along thinking what a wonderful world it is, and suddenly, for no reason at all, a hurtful, random incident from the past pops into your head  You remember that time that someone hurt your feelings.  
This morning I had two such memories, totally unrelated, hit me almost simultaneously, one  from the mid-seventies that I thought I had dismissed long ago; that one, I can tell you about.  
I don't recall if it was Christmas or some other occasion, or if this lady I presumed to be a friend just thought it up out of the blue, but she gave me a package:  Inside that were two smaller bundles; one had written on it, "Open first."  
Upon opening it, I found a tiny pair of bikini panties that had a note with it saying, "This is what you think you are."  
OK?
I opened the other package:  It was a huge pair of granny panties that would have fit a 500-pound woman.  The note enclosed with that said, "This is what you ARE."  
I wasn't fat then, by the way.  I was twenty pounds thinner than I am now.  
I didn't know what to say.  I think I just laughed as if I found the joke funny.  
This morning it came back to haunt me, and you know what?  It hurt more today than it did when it happened.  
I had a long talk with my Maker.  I admitted I needed help getting over this thing.  I asked why on earth, on Easter Sunday, had such a thing come back to haunt me.  
As I said, there was another thing from the more recent past bugging me, but we won't talk about that one.  
Then it came to me:  How many people have I hurt through the years, deliberately or not, who still remember that little slur, that thing they couldn't believe came out of my mouth?
The numbers must be legion.
I am the world's worst at saying what I think when I would be better keeping my mouth shut.  Often I don't realize something I said was hurtful until later and then I think, "I shouldn't have said that!"    
I recall an aunt who cooked a meal for Mother, Daddy, and me when we were visiting and I, the headstrong teenager, refused to go to the table or eat a bite.  How rude of me!  I know it had to have hurt her feelings.  Believe me, I do know.  
"So, God," I asked Him, "is this payback?  After all this time?"  
He didn't say anything, of course.  He doesn't work that way.    
I'm just going to let go of some things and enjoy my Easter Sunday.  I hope all those I've hurt in the past (those who are still living, that is) will let go of a few things, as well.  

She is starting to trust me

I have mentioned before that Jody's calf, Jenny, is somewhat shy of humans because she runs with her mom  during the daytime.  When she grows up, someone will likely need to milk her, and you can't milk a wild cow.  Oh, you could probably rope her and hogtie her somehow, but she would never let her milk down for anybody in such a situation.  A milk cow needs to trust people.  
So every morning after I turn her out of the stall to be with her mom, I have been petting her.  At that time she is so deliriously happy to be nursing that I can do almost anything to her, as long as I don't hurt her.  So I rub her and pet her all about her head and body.  Then I go feed Penny her bottle and return.  By this time Jody's milk is gone, but Jenny is still nursing, just for the comfort of it.  So at this point she is paying a little more attention to her surroundings, and when I start petting her she will pause and look and perhaps run to the other side of Mommy.  I follow her and keep petting.  
I wasn't sure how much progress I was making until this evening when I drove her, all by herself, toward the lot where the door to her stall is.  She kept looking behind us for her mother; when she stopped, I petted and rubbed her back.  She allowed it.  This was repeated several times.  
So yes, we are making progress with Jenny Long-legs.  She is a beautiful heifer, although I think some of the Holstein breed in her mother's background has put some size on her.  Once she learns to really love the calf starter (a feed mixed especially for small calves) that I put in her stall each night, I will use the feed to gentle her down more.  When you are dealing with animals, food speaks volumes to them.  
It sometimes helps with husbands, too.