It just finally hit me. All these years I’ve wished I had a brother; someone that could be of more help to Dad. That could throw those top bales without having to try, or back the trailer up on the first try, not the second. Heck, he would probably have enough sense to wear pants while baling instead of shorts and ending up with cut-up legs the next day. Someone that would be the legacy of our family farm.
Then I had an epiphany of sorts. It all makes sense! I’m glad we don’t have a brother. I wouldn’t be the girl I am today if I had been given a brother. I’ve had to fill those shoes. I’ve been the one to work alongside my Dad and feel pride every day, every hour, every minute of it. Would I feel the passion, pain, or puzzlement that comes with farming and dairying? I’ve learned so many things that a lot of girls don’t. I’ve never once heard that I couldn’t do a task on the farm because I was a girl. They simply told me how to do it, and it was known I would get it done. I’m so lucky to have a father and grandfather that didn’t hire extra outside help to do the chores because there were only daughters or granddaughters. They simply believed that I was as good as any boy could be, and the fact is now I am.
Yes, it takes me a little longer to back the trailer up, and three tries to throw the bale on the top row of the rack wagon, but you can bet I’ll try until I get it done. I’ll never be told that I can’t do that; it’s a man’s job. It makes my heart burst with joy from being this farmer’s daughter. For me, my parents are living the dream. To be your own boss and bring your family together through your job; well, to me that’s worth more than any amount of zeros on a paycheck. For me, farming is the ultimate profession, it’s not about easy work or making millions, but about growing families, feeding the world, and making each child understand responsibility and planting the seed of agricultural passion inside them.