You Aren't a Farmer Without a Farm

I am old enough to know that sometimes you need to step back from life's chaos and simply focus on your priorities. Last month was one of those moments, and unfortunately, that meant letting the blog go idle for a few weeks.

My biggest priority was family with the passing of my grandfather on April 24. It's been more than a month since his funeral, and I still struggle to describe him to friends that never met the man. The funny thing is I can't talk about him without talking about his farm. The two topics are inseparable.

He wore a "farmer's cap" and a pliers on his belt everyday of his life. Grandpa always looked the most comfortable in a pearl snap shirt, broke in Lee jeans and well-worn cowboy boots.

Like most farmers, he was independent but loyal. Grandpa never said much, but when he talked, people listened. He went to the coffee shop nearly every day to share stories and laughs with the local farmers. And like most farmers, he did things his way, and people respected him for it.

He always drove a Ford pickup and John Deere tractor. Lunch was a cooked Oscar Meyer ham sandwich, Cheetos and Soft 'N' Chewy chocolate chip cookies for a snack. He drove home at the end of each day to eat dinner with grandma, and he generally made each of them a drink consisting of Squirt and Old Carter.

He said every farmer always deserved to have at least one good cowdog in his life. His was Frosty, a blue healer that lived to be more than 15 years old. Yet, even after Frosty passed he surrounded himself with a cowdog. They might not have been as good as Frosty, but he liked the company.
 
Family and faith were important to him, even if he never talked about either very much. Grandpa spent nearly every morning for 33 years sharing a pot of coffee with my dad discussing the farm and any other topics that came up. He sat next to my grandma in the same church pew for as many years, and when he couldn't make it to church with her, you'd see him at the 6:30 a.m., Sunday, service. He loved playing cards, and he was generally good for a few rounds of 13-point pitch with the family on Christmas and New Year's Day.

Farmers are defined by their work. In many ways, the two are inseparable. Grandpa served in the Army, worked as a stone mason and traveled the country as a wheat harvester, but he was known by everyone as a farmer.