I have started this blog and stopped, came back to it only to stop again. I am not sure why I am having difficulty talking about a memory that is happy, but yet sad at the same time. It is fitting that I started writing about my dad on my birthday, as one of the best memories that I have of him was on my birthday in 1998. I miss my dad. I think about him every day. I wish that he were here now to see the farm-girl that I have become. He would get a kick out of me thinking I am the cow whisperer (another story for a future blog). Dad was my “go to” person whenever I had a crisis. He was always there for me no matter what the situation may have been. My dad never judged. He was a farmer. His dad was a farmer, my grandparents on my mother’s side were farmers. My life as a farmer seems to have come full circle from childhood until now.
One of my very last memories with my dad was picking blackberries on my birthday, July 12, 1998. He found out early in 1998 that he had cancer. Like many farmers, he did not believe in being sick nor going to the doctor. After he learned of his diagnosis, he tried chemo and radiation for a few months and decided to stop. We had a Welch family reunion at our cousin’s farm in Moran on my birthday of that year. This would be the last outing for my dad as he died 23 days later. He had such a great time visiting with family and friends. It was the perfect day.
On the way home, dad asked if I wanted to stop and pick blackberries. I love blackberries, and I do not mind picking them in spite of their nasty thorns. We had not planned to pick blackberries that day and we were in my Dad’s little truck. We scavenged around looking for anything to put the blackberries in. We finally found a small bucket and a really old sack. I think that I ate more than I picked that day. Regardless, we had plenty to give to Grandma so that she could make us a blackberry cobbler.
Living in the country, I have found that blackberry patches are everywhere. We have several in one pasture. While I am excited to have so many, my husband thinks they are a nuisance. They grow wild and take over the grass. I convinced him to keep one large patch, but he is insisting on mowing down all of the other patches. I have gone blackberry picking a few times this summer. I went alone as this time is time that I use for thinking and talking to God. I woke up early on the three mornings that I went. It has become so extremely hot in Kansas this summer. But on those mornings, the birds were chirping, the sun was coming up, and there was nothing around me but the sounds of nature, and of course cows.
I will always think of my Dad and blackberries on my birthday. He was so happy that day. Even though cancer had taken over his body, he was able to have that one day. Every day should be made to be as special as that “one” day. Life is so short. It seems to go by too quickly. I no longer wish for a certain season to get here as that is wishing my life away. I want time to slow down. I find myself caught up with this chaotic thing they call life. Every now and then I have to take a time out, a slow down, a me time. I have learned that tomorrow is not a given. We have today. Enjoy life….pick blackberries, smell the roses, dance in the rain, and never take life for granted.
Farm Life Rancher's Wife 
Keep writing my friend I love to read these! About as much as I love you! Give billy bob a big ole hug from me
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