RicelandMeadows

June 1, 2019

My younger sister, age 55, passed away yesterday. She was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer just two weeks ago. We are all in a state of disbelief. I choose to remember her just as the last time I saw her, healthy and full of life. I took a day to grieve. I decided that she would want me doing what makes me happy, so, I continue to work on plowing for our sweet corn and pumpkin patch.

The autumn that my mother passed away, she was fretting over me not getting our spelt crop in the ground. She was very happy the day that I told her that the spelt had indeed been planted. My sisters both remind just how important that job is to complete every fall, taking over where mom left off. It seemed only fitting, to honor my sister in sort of the same way. As the seasons on a farm come and go, so do the seasons of our lives.

We till and plant. New life is born. We grow and nurture. The sun and rain refresh us as we grow. We reach harvest and bear fruit. Then we, like the crop are cut down. Our seed continues the process while we rest. The cycle of life is a cold hard fact, filled with warm moments that touch our soul. The cycle is an endless, wonderful, magical thing!

As I plow, I zig and zag a little bit. In life we also waver, but eventually find our way. My sister and I share many memories. I will always remember her smile and laughter. I will think of her now, when I am plowing, for the rest of my life. My sister liked things neat and tidy. I try to plow straight, when the soil is just right. I know she would approve.

Gone too soon, but not forgotten. Rest in peace, in the arms of God, dear sister.