Father’s Day 2017

“Whoever does not have a good father should procure one.”Friedrich Nietzsche

“My dad was my best friend and greatest role model. He was an amazing dad, coach, mentor, soldier, husband and friend.”Tiger Woods

“When it comes to Father’s Day, I will remember my dad for both being there to nurture me and also for the times he gave me on my own to cultivate my own interests and to nurture my own spirit.”Jennifer Grant

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I suppose that looks like an odd combination of people to quote – a scholar with some interesting, provocative views on the world, a world class athlete with some questionable personal issues, and an actress from Beverley Hills 90210.

All are valid quotes though, and I feel that my dad will get a kick out of them once he reads them.

I think it’s probably easier for women in general to write about such things, especially about their fathers. I think just about any of us in the agriculture field was a “daddy’s girl” whether we knew it or not. Some of us while growing up maybe dabbling in ag because it was our father’s hobby, born into a the family business, or we fell into it unexpectedly.

My father grew up in Northeastern Wisconsin into a poor family that subsistence farmed well into the 1960’s. They grew what they needed to survive, had a hodge podge of livestock, and contracted to grow cucumbers for a local pickle company- Bond Pickle Co. that used to be right on the rain system in Oconto, WI.

His love for gardening, hobby farming, and an increased interest in naturalism strengthened over the years and after traveling the world in the military. There were always vegetable gardens and flower beds while I was growing up. He didn’t need anything fancy. He was brought up to work hard and lead by example, and that work ethic showed in his leadership while progressing through the ranks first in the Air Force and then the Navy. He instilled those same traits, work ethics, and mentalities in me.

Over the years he’s focused on rebuilding my family’s property- the natural wildlife population has slowly come back- quail, turkeys, foxes, birds not seen in the area for years, etc. It’s turned into one of his greatest joys. You don’t need to be a “farmer” to appreciate what you can do for the land, and in turn, what the land can give back to you. Imagine his surprise (or, maybe not) when I ended up in the middle of nowhere Nebraska and eventually started a job that no one had ever expected me to do (including myself)- farm and custom harvest.

Even though some of our worldy views may differ, he’s always encouraged me to explore, go out into the world, and find what was right for me. He’s always supported my decisions and yet knew when to stand back and let me make the mistakes we all make when we’re young and stubborn and have our own lessons to learn.
Here’s to the fathers in the world that (tried to) patiently teach all of us while growing up- whether it be in the world of agriculture, driving a stick, rebuilding an engine on a car, complex math equations that we never end up using in real life, changing a tire, their best ways to do certain things.

Here’s the the fathers who work long tiring hours at the office so their wives can be stay at home moms and create more of a traditional/conservative home life.

Here’s to the father’s who are gone for days, weeks, or months on end to provide for their families. Whether be it over the road truck drivers, pilots, military, etc. Sometimes our professions are our choice and what we dreamed of as being little, sometime it’s just purely a job that is financially the best way to selflessly provide. Everyone makes a sacrifice- but our society seems to place the focus of the sacrifice on the mother- let’s not forget about the father.

With that said, let’s not forget about the mother’s for whatever reason are raising their children by themselves and have to fill both parental roles.

And even on the flip side of that- here’s to the single dads that do the equivalent of a single mother and seem to never receive those same accolades.

Here’s to the dad’s who are the stay at home dad’s- being a stay at home parent is no easy task, and here’s to the men that realize that them staying home works the best for their family and situation.

And also, please let’s not forget about the father’s who no longer have their children with them on this Earth. The emotions, feelings, reactions, anger, guilt, etc. all still are very valid to the men who have lost a child. Fathers and men are not immune to this. Take a moment and think of them on this day.

To my daddy: thank you for teaching me about so many things over the years, and I appreciate each day with you, along with all of the sacrifices you made for our family. Our family is blessed to have a hard working, kind, generous soul as our rock.

-Love,
Your Punky.

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An Open Letter to all Moms

Dear Mom,

I’m now in my late 20’s, and I have to say something.

I’m sorry for being such a little bitch when growing up.

Maybe that’s over the top. I know I was a typical teenager.

Contrary to what I may have said in those (obviously) frustrating years, I didn’t know everything. I was simply trying to figure out the world by myself in a hormonal fueled state, when school tended to suck, I was constantly tired, and it was easier to be with friends who all had a mutual understanding of what we were all going through. Balancing school, extra circulars, a part-time job, loads of homework from AP and college credit classes, trying to be a good student, trying to be a good daughter, trying my hardest in general, and for some of us, medical conditions it was hard. You tried to make it easier for me, but the fact of life is, it needs to be hard so we all grow a backbone to get through life. That hardness makes us harden and grow, like how a beating wind makes a tree grow stronger.

And I know you knew it was hard. For one, you were a teenager at one point too. You remember the pressure at home, at school, and not to mention the social and peer pressure that makes school just plain suck sometimes.

And you had to sit by and watch me go through it too. I know it was hard for you- I heard you cry at times. I cried too. I don’t think either of us liked our fights. We both tried our best, but sometimes our combined best was maybe just average. You see, we’re both stubborn and hard-headed. We’re only human. Eventually you had to let me make my own mistakes, and oh, did I ever make them. Some of them you tried to warn me, other times you knew I just had to go make that mistake and learn (sometimes slowly).

It brings be back to my first few sentences I’m sorry I was such a pain in the ass.

Because now that I’ve gotten older, lived with other people, moved out-of-state, have actually lived in the same residence for almost four years (a feat in itself), have a job and a husband- well, it makes a girl realize (and question) some things.

– I’m sorry I didn’t do “more”. At the time it felt like I was giving everything I had, but no one realizes how much you grow and stretch to do more as time goes on. Hindsight is a bitch.

-No, I didn’t know everything and how the heck did you resist just throttling me and smacking me upside the head?

-How the hell did you do it? I don’t even have kids yet. That’s still down the road. But with both my husband and I working the same job and hours, we can work 14+ hours a day every day when it’s not raining. Food still needs to be cooked, dishes still need to be washed, errands still have to be done, laundry still has to be washed and folded, a dog has to be taken care of, luggage for three months needs to be packed, house needs to be cleaned, bills paid, and on and on and on. There are times where I want to stop and scream. And let me reiterate I don’t even have kids yet.

-I’m sorry for the constant eye rolling. Again, how did you refrain from smacking me upside the head? At that angsty teenager phase, the last thing we all wanted to hear was “Just wait until you get older! You’ll understand.”

I can’t say that I’m totally at that 100% of understanding, but holy crap- I’m miles closer to understanding that comment now.

Would it have really killed me to just wash the damn dishes like you asked? Cleaned my room? Even wiped down the bathroom counter? Do my own laundry? Cut down on the back talk? The eye rolling? The stomping off? The breaking curfew? Not calling if I’m going to be late?

No. It damn sure wouldn’t have.

So, I apologize. Yes. Your stubborn hard-headed little girl is apologizing to you. I wasn’t a shitty kid, but I had shitty moments. There were times I thought I knew better what was right for myself, and you had to sit by and watch silently. There were times when I bucked your authority and strongly disliked you.

But damn it- you were right. You can freely, unabashedly, unselfishly take a moment to pat yourself on the back, gloat, and say out loud “I told you so.”

You know all of those little things though? Remember when I was so sick for that year- I still remember you buying me endless puzzle books, cooking my favorite foods to coax me to eat, renting me movies, even going to the library each week to the awesome aide there could pick out new books for me. I remember when the fevers would get so high, that you would sit with me in the bathroom while I shivered in the bathtub and cracked jokes to make me laugh. I remember the anger and rage in your eyes yelling at the doctors all while softly stroking my hand. You supported me and kept me going through painful physical therapy. You’ve held me while I’ve cried, and you’ve kicked me in the butt (verbally) when I needed a wake up call. Even when you held in your excitement at the birthday gift you got me a few years ago- the new Spirograph set because you knew how much the original set I played with growing up at Grandma’s meant to me.You put hours upon hours into my wedding because I simply didn’t have the time (and who doesn’t have time to plan their own wedding?). Or when I was home a few trips ago and go so violently sick with the flu, you stayed on the chair while I laid on the couch. Me, a 28-year-old who has obviously gotten the flu without you being there, but you were there and I needed you. I could go on and on. We all could.

When we’re teenagers and young adults, I don’t think we truly realize how much our moms do.

You self-sacrifice. You are patient and kind. You love us. You support us. You encourage us. You try to protect us for as long as you know you can.

You spend years trying to nurture us into a self-sufficient, open-minded, strong, independent woman full of dreams and opportunities. You try to prepare us for the real world.

And then in what must feel like too short of a time since you gave birth to us, you have to let us go. You let us go out into this big scary world of life, knowing that we’re going to fall. Repeatedly. We’re going to get knocked on our ass and sometimes you can’t pick us up and kiss our bruised knee to make it better.

How hard that must be for you to watch.

But, I’ll let you in on a secret. A secret that probably isn’t really such a secret after all, because you have a mother. And she had one. And generations of women have followed this path.

We all need our mother. We will always need your love, guidance, and grace. No matter how far we move, how often we don’t call (and know that we should just pick up the stupid phone for a quick call), how busy we get, how often we travel, no matter what we see and experience in life, we all need our mom.

Because I honestly don’t think that there’s a stronger bond between mother and daughter.

And when I have kids of my own some day, I’ll call you on the phone ask how the hell you did this. How did you keep sane? How did you manage? And, you’ll silently smile into the phone, tell me to take a deep breath and know that the pattern is just repeating itself.

So, this Mother’s Day, but just like every other day, I’ll tip my ball cap to you, Mom. Tip it to how strong you were, are, and will be, even when you don’t think you are.

Mom, I love you and I wouldn’t be who I am today.

To all Mothers, including the mother-like figures in all of our lives, Happy Mother’s Day.

fourgen

Four generations- I’m obviously the baby.