A Letter to the Farm Wives Before Me

I see you now.  My grandmother who was a farmers wife, and to all the other farm wives who have been doing this much longer than I have.  I see you.

I remember meeting some fellow women who had married farmers and feeling intimidated by them.  These women were the real thing.  They were confident, great cooks, knew all the names of the fields by the last names of the original family who farmed it! They knew what kinds of meals were good to bring to the fields, to bring a wet washcloth with soap for their hands in the spring, and all of them did so with such grace.

I’m going to be honest here.  Becoming a farm wife, well, has been a learning process for me.  I had a hard time learning all the field names, let alone which direction was north, south, east, and west!  Harvest and spring planting were lonely times for me, and even now they still are.  I go into each season positive and upbeat but incredibly (& admittedly a little selfishly) relieved when my farmer is back home in the evenings at his seat around the dinner table when the busy seasons are over.

I’ve had to learn to be okay that I am the only one out of my group of life long friends who chose a life like this.  A life that is so dependent on things like weather and livestock, who require care 24/7/365.  A life that so few people can truly understand. I’ve had to choose to be joyful for my friends who I see scrolling through my newsfeed, who’s lives seem so much more simple then mine.

And in my learning, I have found that the strength of a farm wife is quiet and humble, similar in that manner to the farmer she married.

Farm wives know times will be hard, and even expect it.  But we keep going, for the children who love us, love their daddy, and love the farm they get to live on.   We are strong when commodity prices are down, when we see our farmer shake his head and look to heaven as he hears the numbers.  We are the first to remind him, that together, WE can do this, while simultaneously sending prayers up to heaven.

We’re the first to remind our family we hold hands to pray at the dinner table and we always hug and kiss goodnight.  We brush away tears and pray as our farmer heads out into that storm to save his pigs and cows, we hold our babies tight and cheer them up as they wonder why daddy is working late in the fields and ask why he isn’t home yet to kiss them goodnight.

And yes, we even smile and our hearts swell when we hear our little boy say they want to be just like daddy when they get older.

 

To the farm wife who’s children are grown.  Who’s maybe watching a younger generation of farmers plant her husbands field this year.  I see you now.  I know the strength you have carried for your family.  The strength of a woman.  Of a mother.  Of a farm wife. You are like no one else.

And you are so loved.  I hope I can be like you.

xo,

jenn

 

 


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