It seems just like yesterday that I was dressed all in white, walking down the aisle on our family farm, exchanging my marriage vows with my husband, Scott. Gosh darn it, time really does fly by when you’re having a good time. Perhaps that is why the last 20 years have flown by.
Twenty years this Flag Day, Scott and I will celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary. It all goes by quickly, too quickly if you ask my opinion. I think this especially holds true when we’ve built a family and expanded a farm simultaneously. It’s all kind of a blur.
Separated by 500 miles of corn rows, Scott and I met at a cow sale in Louisville, Ky. He likes to tell people he brought home more than a load of Jersey springers, but truth be told, we didn’t start dating until many months later.
Most of the years have been really good to us. We are blessed. Somehow, we blinked and now our children are 19, 16 and 13, and our herd has grown from 100 to 650 cows.
We laugh a lot, which is good medicine for a successful marriage. I’ll fully admit, some of my cooking included burnt dinners the first year. Scott, the good sport he is, tried to swallow it down and not complain, but when the following day’s lunch included leftovers, he tossed it to the cats. He likes to remind me that even the farm cats wouldn’t eat it.
Laughter is good because it helps you through the really tough times. Like when I had to bury both my parents and sell my childhood family dairy farm. Sometimes those days just required a hug and even in the midst of busy spring farming seasons, Scott knew the right time when the tractor just would need to be parked so he could comfort his grieving wife.
However, most of the days weren’t extraordinary. They were the simple days that included the routine that dairy life requires. Like milking cows, feeding calves, mixing feed and working in the fields. Raising a family and farming might seem like a kodak Christmas card, but many days were a chaotic blur. That’s when kids would bellyache over breaking to lead a stubborn 2-year-old cow, a piece of equipment would break, cows would get out, or we would be awoken by a barn fire that would require us to persevere.
And I think that is one blessing of being married to a dairy farmer. They teach you daily about perseverance. When the milk check won’t cover the expenses, when the corn shrivels under the hot July sun, when the river levels overflow and fieldwork doesn’t begin until June. Farmers persevere. They are the eternal optimist and that is a helpful ingredient to be married to someone who believes in a better tomorrow.
We have had a lot of good memories, too. But, really for us, those memories that we hold close to our chests include a game of kickball in the yard after evening chores or a never-ending game of four-square in the driveway on a Sunday afternoon. Memories like breaking calves to lead for the fair and watching kids overcome attitudes in time to lead a stubborn 2-year-old cow into the show ring to walk out with a purple ribbon. Times like when your oldest son serves as the captain of the football team and shares that he would like to do what dad does for a living, by returning to the farm after graduating college. Or when your daughter is honored with Magna Cum Laude status and your youngest becomes more helpful on the farm and takes the liberty to water 100 calves all by himself. Moments like this don’t happen overnight, but happen because children witness the strong marriage bond of their parents, and the discipline farm life offers.
Twenty years goes by fast. Especially when you go through life, hand-in-hand with your soulmate. Someone who is always there, by your side, through “better or worse.” My only wish is to push the pause button a bit more and commit to another 20 years of making blurred memories that add purpose to our lives and provide food for the world.
