On August 4, 2012, a Saturday evening, my beloved farmhouse caught fire and burned. I am still in shock and grieving as though it had been a family member. There is almost nothing to salvage, as the wind was high and the fire made quick work of the old lumber. I am digging through it this week and after the inspections are finished, I will need to have it demolished.
People have been loving, kind, and helpful and many others have suffered such a loss – some more serious than this in storms that have taken lives. All the stories shared with me include the same inexpressible sadness and feeling of loss. It is just heart wrenching to lose your home to any cause.
As you might expect, I’m trying to analyze the loss, but I guess I have matured, as I’m sure not questioning why God would allow this to happen or thinking it was all part of the great cosmic plan. Maybe the Mars landing by Curiosity this morning would fall in that arena, but not this. It was just one of those accidents that occur in life that hurts like hell and changes a person forever.
I don’t know if I will rebuild, but I will keep the farm. All the memories are still there with or without a house. If I should rebuild, the new house will still be loved just as much as this one was. The sun will continue to rise over the pasture, the garden will still be eaten by grasshoppers in bad years, and I’ll complain about the deer thrashing my trees. New memories will be made and hopefully, my sons will continue to say they own a Kansas farm that has been in the family for five generations.
Like all changes in life, some are difficult. But they will take place whether we like it or not, so I am determined to get through this and adapt to the necessary changes. I will treasure my memories, continue to farm, and yes, although I live in the city, I will always have one foot on the farm.
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