I snapped this picture the other night at the end of a long, exhausting day. I was tired. I was irritated. I had sent my husband a text telling him that I knew it probably would not change anything, but I wanted him to know how overwhelmed I was feeling. The full time job, cooking dinner, bathing the kids, weekend trips without him, keeping up the house, juggling everything alone, you name it, I was resenting it. I have these little moments every planting and harvest season where it all just feels heavy.
Then this happened.
He walked in, fixed himself a plate, and sat down to eat… all by himself. He was tired. He was hot. He was completely drained. But instead of complaining, he told me he was sorry that I was tired and felt the way I did. Charlotte climbed up next to him, chatted his ear off, and even stole most of his dinner. And he just smiled. He shared without a word of frustration. That is when it hit me.
Do I wish we saw him more than an hour or so each day? Absolutely. But the love he has for his work is something to admire. Farming is a thankless profession. It is always non GMO this and organic that, and then there is the constant stress of Mother Nature deciding everything. This man is carrying four generations of blood, sweat, and tears on his shoulders while showing our children what true hard work and discipline look like.
While I felt frustrated, I realized I should have been feeling thankful. I got to sit down to dinner and listen to all the stories from the day with the kids. I got to give them baths, hear their squeals and giggles, and snuggle them tight. I had three extra hours with them that he did not. He is the one making the real sacrifice, not me.
So we will keep going, day after day, until the next rainy day when we get a few extra hours with our hard worker. And in the meantime, the next time you slip into a soft cotton shirt or enjoy fresh food from the farm, take a moment to thank a farmer. Because honestly, where would we be without them?