This farm wife and working mom has been getting used to our new schedule and evenings without her husband. I rush all day long to get things marked off my to do list, and when I get home I just want to spend time feeding my child, reading to her and playing. She is growing up too fast so my spare moments are spent with her, not the blog. So the post below is my recent Farm Indiana article and hopefully when the farmer is finished with harvest I'll have a little more time to write.
They go to the farm on a daily basis not ever really knowing what that day may bring. And we as farm wives see them off never knowing when they will come home. Farmers leave at all hours of the day and night for various reasons. I’m currently experiencing early morning goodbyes and the late night hellos, and sometimes a repeat of the same greetings late at night when he runs to check on the grain dryer.
Miss Mae watching harvest from our backyard.
However, sometimes when they say goodbye they don’t return. My mom experienced that the day we lost my dad on the farm. And I hope and pray that I never have to endure that heartache as she has. I try to be fully bright-eyed and busy tailed when he leaves in the morning to kiss and say goodbye. And then I try to be at home waiting his return with a smile and sometimes a hot meal.
When we were first married, he left in the morning a few times without saying goodbye or giving me a morning kiss and I was devastated. Let’s be honest, I was probably a little more dramatic than I needed to be but I could not start my day without that goodbye or that kiss. In the back of my mind, I am always prepared for it to be our last.
Before the farmer goes to the farm to work the land that he loves and the animals that he cares for, he has to prepare for his day. First up, a check of the weather—always. Next, he makes some morning coffee and maybe some eggs if there is time because you know, there is no burning daylight so a few extra minutes of sleep might have cost him his breakfast. And he now knows he can’t skip the last portion of his morning routine—the goodbye.
Before the farmer goes to the farm to collect dirt and cow manure that will end up in my washer, I say a prayer that he and all the farmers will be safe as they work so passionately in the early morning fog until well after sunset. I embrace my dirty kitchen floors and loads of never ending laundry because if the floors were clean and the laundry was done, he would have only left and never come home.
Sometimes when the farmer leaves now, it’s to take a walk with our baby girl to introduce her to the cows and watch the Indiana sunsets (and to give me a moment of peace and quiet). And while they are gone, I pray that she learns about the goodbyes and hellos of life and that sometimes they are really hard but they make us stronger and more prepared for the next greetings.
No matter how the farmers may leave us or when God decides to take them, when they go there is always a lesson to be learned. Dad always said, “There’s no burnin’ daylight”. And my farmer always says, “It will be okay”. So I guess I’ll survive the early morning goodbyes and pray for the late night hellos. I know that he's always working through the daylight and he will be okay and come home at night well after God's paintings have faded into the dark sky to become stars.
The view from our upstairs window--golden corn and God's painting.
(Don't judge my dirty window!)