farm

you know how some people are just "farm." at least that's what i've come to call them. lovingly of course. matt is one of them. they just have this way about them. they aren't pretentious, they pay attention to things, they are simple, kind folk who know and love the land. truth be told, i have always wanted to be more "farm." which is why i'm drawn to people like matt and roseann and olivia and gene who work on the organic farm where i've spent the last 3 summers.

i don't think you can ever really become "farm," although i've tried. i think you are born that way. and of course, the obvious factor of growing up on a farm. it is a way of life that only other farmers can know. i wish i could know.

yesterday i took the long gravel driveway down to his house. he was in bed, his family all around him. these were farm folk. plain and true. they knew his death would be soon. and as i watched this young man and his father, i began to feel the heat of emotion rise from deep within me. i tried to stop it, but as i looked at this old farmer, his glasses filthy and smudged with dried tears and dirt, i began to cry. this old farmer was losing his son and he wept and wept and wept. the tears that only a parent can shed for their child.

i looked out the window to gain some composure and noticed the fields had been turned over since i was there last. planting has begun. and this farmer was shedding the tears that would soon water and replenish the soil. the soil that had been the life blood of this family for over a hundred years.

these days are fleeting. this life such a mystery. i tried to remember this story when my own little farmer woke me today at 5:15. sometimes i get so crabby. sometimes i just wish he would sleep. but the sun is rising earlier and he knows it. he will be "farm." at least i hope. i'll raise him that way as much as i can. . . .

always trying to remember that this life is that long gravel road, leading us home.