It's been another year around the Sun for my farmer. It's hard to believe. These years seem to be just sailing by. Yet this year has been hard. The Joy Thief began to set up camp and we didn't catch it early enough. He's dug in his heels and my farmer fights each day to trust and wrestle. He rises each day before dawn. He tends to animals and details of farm life before most of us have fluttered awake. He never complains. Equipment breaks, the cold wind howls, milk prices drop, milk production drops; yet he perseveres. Every day. He loves his family and works to be at functions ... View Post
Sometimes, What We’re Given, Is Not What We Want. Can You Relate?
He cracks a joke. His eyes twinkle. He doesn't smile. He doesn't have to; his eyes always have. He participates in a discussion. He prays. My farmer is feeling better. A weight beginning to lift. Even for a moment. His walk with the Joy Thief long. He has continued to climb those walls; doing the hard work. Nothing will ever be the same. But having a piece of him back is exhilarating. I miss his handlebar mustache. A different thief at work. Radiation and Chemo stealing unknown fragments along the way. Sometimes we don't ... View Post
When You’re Behind Before The Day Has Even Started
The dishwasher hums because I forgot to start it last night. The washing machine whirls because for some reason it stopped full of water. Sometimes our water pressure isn't strong enough and it will stop mid cycle. So I start the dishwasher, get the washing machine going. And I already feel behind. There is laundry and a bag to fill. There is quiet to find and bills to pay; children to teach, a farmer to love. We all have the pull of the urgent. The feeling of being behind. We are defeated before we even start. Steven Curtis Chapman's ... View Post
Just Because
It's still there. I breathe in deep. Just a hint of his smell. I hold his pillow. I lay my cheek on the softness. I rock back and forth. I linger in the memories. It's the missing that can consume. A desire around the pain. Any way but through. The wanting to hear his voice; call me mom. We sit at the dinner table. We light his candle. We just miss him so much. And at some point you have to just stop the missing. Because He's not coming back. All the uncomfortable shouts at us. Cedric balks at going to summer ... View Post
