After what seems like a year, I am able to blog again. I am sorry for the silence but I had some things to do and take care of, most of all the sale of the family farm.
I was out there today taking pictures. Pictures of the family farm, in the family since 1888. My father was born there and died there. I grew up there but never really appreciated it, until now.
As I was taking the shots, the wind blew harder and harder. The swirls of motion seemed to whisper "remember". The tears started as I went down memory lane. Back to the first time I rode my new horse, my new puppy, my first date, my now to be nearly last walk around the property. Crows cawed in the background, turkeys gobbled in the distance and the spring peepers sang away. It is definitely a magical property with rolling hills, a spring fed pond and numerous creeks. I remember my grandmother's feather bed and the soda she saved especially for me. Thoughts of her Avon Bird of Paradise cologne drift through my brain so strong that I swear that I can smell it. I can hear my brother's laughing and my dad yelling at us to stop torturing each other! Yeah, like that ever happened. I see rows of golden wheat, corn and soybeans. Stacks of hay bales fill the barn and the sweat rolls down the nape of my farmer tanned dad's neck. Peaches are held to overflowing in baskets well worn by years of use. The memories keep drifting in and out of my mind's eye.
Suddenly I am aware of my husband coming up behind me. He notices the tears and puts his arms around me. We stand in the warmth of the sun, silently holding each other. Suddenly I hear a horn beep and my mom's voice yelling at us to come in for supper. I turn but no one is there. I turn to Jon and we walk quietly to our car and drive away.
I may have left the farm, but the memories came with me.