Chapter 22 Joy and Sorrow

It was a beautiful May day. Bret and Kate stood with me, one on both sides, my arms around their small sholders. We were gathered in a quiet little country cemetery. My eyes rested on Mark as he stood behind the hearse, beside five other men. They reached out and quietly lifted the casket out and slowly placed it under the green tent.

Our dear friend Roy was gone. It was so hard to believe. He left a deep hole in the farming community and an even larger one in our little family. He will never know how much he meant to Bret and Kate, and both Mark and me. Just last night, our family gathered around the piano to sing a few hymns. We would do this once in a while. We would take turns choosing a hymn each. Last night Bret asked us to sing a certain one and then he said, "I dedicate this to Roy." He was not kidding. He was a very serious little boy that evening. Roy meant the world to our children.

He meant the world to us and left a huge hole, but one thing we knew was that he would want us to move on. I remember many times he would come driving up at just the right time to help me out of a serious problem. His first words would always be, "Is anyone hurt? That's the important thing." 

So we moved on. We would never forget our friend. Never in the whole world. But we would move on. Life is just like that. It moves on. A new day comes and an old day goes. But we will forever have the memories.

I felt a comfort in going over some evenings to visit with Jeannie, Roy's widow. She was so sweet. She was staying alone, and that really hurt me. I don't like to see anyone alone. But she would say to me, "I don't feel alone. It is just like God is right here beside me." What a precious lady. I found a lot of strength sitting at her kitchen table just talking. Sometimes Kate would come with me, but sometimes I would go alone.

On the Friday before Mother's Day, Mark came into the house following a trip to town.

"Honey, close your eyes," he said walking into the kitchen.

"What on earth for?"

"Remember, I promised you a surprise a few months ago? Well I have it for you. Close your eyes!"

"OK."

I can hear him walk up close to me. "Okay, open them."

He stood there, a smile on his face, and holding a piece of plain paper.

"Well is that my surprise? A piece of paper?"

"Yeah... read it."

I came closer and looked at it. There on that plain piece of paper Mark had wrote: "Happy Mother's Day Honey. Our house is ours!"

Wow! I couldn't believe my eyes! I just stood there. Then the dam broke. I threw my arms around his neck and bawled! "Oh honey did you really do this? You're not kidding?"

"We did it!"

"Oh what a special Mother's Day gift! Thank you.....thank you! You're the best!"

Even if May did start out with sorrow,  it was full of joy as well.  Our house was paid for and tomorrow was kindergarten graduation for a little girl.

The school theater was buzzing with talk and laughter as Mark and I entered. Moms and dads, Grandpas and Grandmas, aunts and uncles were sitting here and there waiting for the curtains to open and little faces to appear. Up on the stage sat two potted plants.

All eyes turned to the stage and all got quiet when the curtains opened and there stood Mrs. Miller smiling her kind smile. Lined up beside her were her little girls and boys. There were tall ones and short ones, nervous ones and calm ones, some were rocking back and forth, standing on the side of their little feet. There were little bow ties and white shirts. There were tennis shoes and dress shoes. There were pig tails and pony tails, hair ribbons and head bands. Mrs. Miller stood there prim and proper and started to talk into the microphone, "Welcome Mothers, Fathers, Grandparents to our kindergarten graduation."

All of a sudden, out of no where, a little boy hollered,  "Mrs. Miller come here!" The stage came alive with little people crowding around whatever was so important.

Mrs. Miller calmly went over to the excited group. She said something and then you could see her take her foot and smash something. She told the children to get back in line, went back to the microphone and said "well sometimes you have to take care of the important things first. But we have the bug killed now so we can continue."

It was so cute to watch them sing the little songs that they had practiced special for the day. Some little ones gave it all they had. Their little heads would be thrown back and little arms really getting into the swing of thing. Some stood there, their little heads lowered squinting out into the crowd trying to see a familiar face smiling back at them. After the song was done, they stood there looking out into the bright lights, while moms and dads, grandpas and grandmas clapped loud and long. Mrs. Miller stood there with a smile on her face.

Then came the diplomas. Mrs. Miller announced that each one had completed the work needed to pass on to first grade. Then she walked down the row, handing each child a special piece of paper. How important! They had passed kindergarten. They would now be going to school for a full day. They were on their way to new dreams, new beginnings. We now had two little "diplomas" at our house.

It was summertime again on our little farm. There was alfalfa to be swathed and baled, fence to fix, calves to work and give shots to, preparing them for the summer pastures. There were small fields of milo and soybeans being planted, and the wheat fields were headed and slightly beginning to turn to a yellow color. And, of course, there was always the pig chores. In the back yard, the garden spot was worked up and a few rows of peas and green beans were popping through the ground. Tomatoes were planted with a peice of shingle leaning up behind each one to protect them from the hot winds.

Little sling shots and rocks changed to bb guns, and it was a familiar sound to hear the little blue four wheeler take off to the north 40, or hear voices of two kids busy making a fort in the creek with their little brown dog following close behind. Some evenings we would all pile onto the pickup and head to the pasture with Mark to check the cattle.

"Would you let us off at the pond dad? Please?" the kids started begging as soon as we got inside the gate.

"Ok,  I guess, but you need to be really careful cause you don't want to fall in," Mark warned.

"Oh I'll stay with them. I don't trust them around all that water. They don't know how to swim yet," I piped up before anyone else could say anything.

So off we went. Sometimes we went right past the cattle because Bret had his bb gun and they were on a very important mission: To try and shoot snapping turtles.

Out we scrambled, Kate reaching for a shoe that had fallen off and Bret grabbing for his bb gun. Off they ran down to the water and sat down, Kate's little legs bent at the knees, her little pigtails hanging loose over her shoulder. Bret sat so important beside her, holes in the knees of his jeans, his bb gun resting on his lap. I plopped down a ways from them in the sun, pulling up weeds and putting them in a pile, just for something to do as we waited for a turtle to pop up out of the water.

It was so pleasant, sitting there beside the water as it lapped up on the shore. Somewhere in the distance I could hear Mark's pickup as he made his way around the cows and back to us.

"Are you ready to head home?" he asked leaning out the window.

"Just one more, please daddy?'

"Alright and then we have to go. It's getting chore time and I'm getting hungry."

I got up and ambled over to his side of the pickup, reached inside and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Did you find all the cows?"

"Yea and believe it or not the bull was there with them. A couple calves have watery eyes, so we will need to watch them. Could need patches."

"Now that will be a fun job. Getting them caught out here in all this open space." I said with a laugh.

"We will just have to hope it don't come to that," Mark said as we heard a pop and a splash and knew Brett has spotted his turtle.

"Ok kids, let's go."

"Can we ride in the back dad?" they both said already half way into the bed.

"Just up to the pasture gate," Mark answered as I got in the passenger side.

As soon as we pulled up to the garage and shut the pickup off, the kids jumped out and ran off into the broke patch. "We want to play a little longer, okay?" Bret asked jumping, grabbing his bb gun.

"Ok, but when I call you come cause supper will be ready."

"Let me know when supper is ready too. Ok? I want to work for a bit on that pig feeder," Mark said heading to the machine shed.

I busied myself making supper. Let's see, what do we have. I really didn't enjoy cooking. It would be so much more fun out in the shop with Mark, I thought as I opened the refrigerator door searching for something to make. How about a "breakfast" supper. Eggs, bacon and pancakes? Yea that sounds good I thought getting to work.

"Supper!" I hollered out the back door "Come and get it!" No answer. No people.

I walked out to the shed and of course Mark couldn't hear me. With the welder going and his head covered with that helmet.

"Supper!" I hollered not looking at the fire coming out of the welder. "Do you know where Bret and Kate are?"

"Haven't seen them. I will be there in a minute."

"Bret... Kate..." I hollered, walking out of the shed and heading north.

There they were. I saw them in front of the farrowing shed. They had an old heat lamp hanging from a piece of baling wire they had strung up between two boards. An old piece of plywood was laid across two five gallon buckets. They were sure busy about something bent over that homemade table. They didn't hear me...again!

"Bret...Kate..." I said walking up to them. "What are you..."

I couldn't finish my sentence! There on the table laid a little pig that had died that morning. My little kids, and yes one is a girl, were dissecting it! Oh gross! I turned and ran back to Mark.

"You have to go get the kids. I can't look at it!"

"What are you talking about?"

"They are dissecting that pig you took out of the pen this morning!"

"Well that is how doctors learn I guess. Maybe they will be doctors."

"Well I don't like it!" I said heading toward the house.

It wasn't long until we were sitting at the table. Both kids were excited and telling us all about how pigs are put together.

"Ok interesting but would it be ok to change the subject?" I asked "Tell us what you have been reading in your book Bret."

That was a much better subject for the supper table.

Being a mom is quite interesting sometimes. Especially when you live on the farm. I never knew what I would find under beds, or in jeans pockets or what went into the washing machine, or what I would see around the corner, but I loved every minute. What one didn't think of, the other one did. Life is never dull on the farm. Sometimes it was the kids who entertained us or sometimes it was the Mrs. who tried to entertain her husband. What the kids would do would usually bring more laughter than what the Mrs. did.