Marytina Lawrence / Special to Agweek
Mother's Day is one of my favorite days of the year. We always get together and enjoy each other and an enormous brunch somewhere that allows for all of us mom's not to cook. We exchange flowers, cards and camaraderie and celebrate the family we have become. I truly look forward to the time. This Mother's Day, however, was slightly different for me as one of my children (my daughter) was unable to be with us for the first time ever. We still had a wonderful day but it was not the same without her.
I have been spending much of my column time addressing some of the triumphs and tragedies that we experience on our farm in Minnesota. It has always been my goal to communicate the heart behind why we farm and hopefully, bridge a gap between those that farm and those that don't. Even with all the communication options that exist in the world today, many times we miss it when it comes to the message we wish to share with others.
I was thinking about the health craze that has swept our society over the past few years the other day and the revolution that has taken place in the mind of consumers. In the world of today, many think about the origin of their food prior to purchase more than ever before. As producers of a major commodity, it has been a game changer in the realm of perception and forces us to be much more deliberate and transparent in the way we do things around the farm.
Sometimes living in Minnesota is hard. I am a California girl that left the sunshine and warmth behind for true love. Love for a man, love for a lifestyle and love for a future undefined. Truth is, I would not trade the life I have lived for anything. But this last week, life became hard and unforgiving and it reminded me just how tough things can be.
Sometimes I forget about the cold in Minnesota, then January hits and calving is in full swing and I become brutally aware of just how cold it really is.
It is so hard to believe that another whole year has passed and we are looking down the calendar at 2019! I remember like it was just the other day that we were discussing the turning of the century and what that could mean for everyone. The Y2K discussion had everyone in a dither about what would happen when the clock struck 12:01. Here we are, 19 years later and the technology of today is beyond comprehension for me. My children have seen more change and advancement in their short lives than I have seen in my life of 50 years. What is in store, who can possible know.
It was a wonderful weekend with the opportunity to have everyone home to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday. In our home, as in most, we have much to be thankful for. I am my most content and joyful when all are home together. As our children have grown, that happens less and less. This year we were missing a small member of our family, and yesterday, when my son Wyatt called for the dog to help with some cows that were breaching the gate, I realized her absence.
The other night my husband and I spent some time together on a last minute trip to pick up some grain for the cattle, and it occurred to me that our life is different from others in more ways than one.
I love the fall. It is a time of the year where we transition out of the craziness of the summer and anticipate the opportunity to slow down, regroup and more importantly bring in the harvest. Months of work and planning, time in the field estimating and hoping for great reward are brought to the storehouses. I have been watching the increased farm traffic over the past month or so, and it warms my heart to see farmers begin to reap what they have sown.
About a year ago, I wrote a column about my son Wade and his art. It was titled "The Artistry Of Farming" and I was inspired to share his story as I came to the realization that there is more than one way to share the story of agriculture. My son, through a random drawing class, began to influence people about cattle. He would not only become student of the month but his pieces were then displayed in the front of the high school and with the choice I made to write about it, the article would then be picked up by another magazine that was nationwide.