Telling the Bees

There is a European custom of “Telling the Bees” wherein important life events are told to one's bees. It is said that if the bees are not told about the death of a loved one, they cannot go into mourning and a penalty would have to be paid, such as the bees would leave the hive, not produce enough honey for the beekeeper or even die. Celtic mythology has always held that bees are the link between our world and the spirit world and if you want anyone who has died to stay informed about the goings on on Earth, you could tell the bees and they would pass along the information (Great Lakes Bee Supply, 2017).

Upon learning of my bee-less beekeeper status (a result of having lost my hives over the winter), my kind neighbour Beekeeper Jim offered to help me rebuild my apiary this summer using his spring splits. Sharing his bees with me is such an incredibly generous thing to do. I am truly grateful.

Given that in about a month's time, some of Jim's bees will be re-homed onto our farm and become our bees, I figured that it would be appropriate to head to his apiary to tell his bees about the unexpected passing of my dad. With the moral support of my mom, Ian, Liam, Seamus and our dogs, we told the bees that Dad passed away in his sleep. He was buried in the family cemetery. His soul is with Baby and Grandpa Ed in Heaven. Even writing about it now, almost two weeks since it happened, it feels surreal. It is hard to believe that such a great man is truly gone.

According to folklore, the head of the household, using the key to their home, should softly knock three times on the hive in order to get the bees' attention, then pronounce, in a low soft voice, the name of the departed. Given the group of us who felt it important to share this news with the bees, our pronunciation was a little more boisterous. Liam and Seamus stood off to the side of the apiary and shouted "Hi Bees" at the hives. When they were satisfied that the bees were paying attention they proceeded to share our sad news. I hope our way works just as well and that the bees got the message.

It is difficult for me to imagine how life on the farm will continue without someone so central to our daily lives and my journey as a hobby farmer. My dad has been my constant helper and advice giver on all things farming since we moved to the country ten years ago. He helped me bring home my first laying hens, my first day-old chicks, Alice the ewe with Abbott and Violet as tiny lambs, and Loki the ram. He was there to help me dig post holes and stretch fencing, shovel so many loads of mulch, triple mix and gravel, rototill and edge gardens, plant vegetables, cut down dead trees, build my lettuce frame, shovel snow, muck barns, move hay bales, fix gates, and so, so much more. He was my very best farmer support system. I still remember him talking me through the death of my first hen - it seems like so long ago now - I was so devastated at the time.

The day Dad and I brought the sheep home from Wolfe Island.

It is impossible to put into words what my dad means to me.  He was truly one of a kind, I loved him fiercely and I will miss him tremendously. I don't need the bees to tell him that life around here will never be the same.  We will move on because with Liam and Seamus around there is no other choice, but I hope that he is watching over us and that we continue to make him proud.

Derrick W. Kehoe (Feb 17, 1956 - May 27, 2018)

Citation

Great Lakes Bee Supply (2017). https://www.greatlakesbeesupply.com