I Never Thought ....

I’d be checking the soybean prices to see when to sell my dad’s grain.

I’d almost cry at my children’s baseball game because my dad didn’t get to see them play.

I’d wonder if each person I pass in the grocery store knew my dad.

I’d enjoy working on the farm especially the hard outside labor stuff as much as I do, even in the heat (that's Keely at the equator of the farm).

I’d be thinking about the weather as much as Dad did and hope it’s good for growing crops even the ones that aren’t mine.

I’d have trouble letting things go that were Dad’s especially pieces of paper with his handwriting on it even when it’s just a phone number or a list.

I’d realize how much I am like my Dad in the hoarding department.

I’d see how messy my house can be on a continuous basis because I don’t have the time or energy for picking up.

I'd think Dad was watching me when I see beautiful skies especially at the farm.

I’d bring procrastinating to an all time high by dragging my feet on so many things because getting more Dad stuff done just brings us closer to having nothing to do for Dad …. That seems like a weird sort of purgatory.

I'd get so much use out of my rain boots which are now my work boots .... thank goodness I bought cute ones!

I’d walk and drive through cemeteries seeing what other people put up and how headstones are decorated so I could get ideas for Dad.

I’d think so much about my own mortality and how I would like to be remembered and what kind of funeral I would like to have.

I’d long for the day when I can raise chickens (with Jackson) and possibly think that raising calves might be a fun thing.

I’d see my motorcycle-loving husband wear a cowboy hat while driving a tractor and wanting to learn to farm (seriously).

I’d get into an argument with my farm-loving husband about chicken raising. (Argument part not so much of a surprise).

I’d almost cry driving to Keely’s house last weekend remembering that last time I went there, Dad was there too for my nephews’ birthday party. Firsts are hard.

I’d listen to the CD of songs we all picked to play at his funeral forty thousand times and still not be sick of it.

I’d get to spend this much time with my family on the farm and no one has yet complained one bit about the hard work.

I’d feel like our cash renters were like family in less 6 weeks.

I’d be able to hear my dad saying things like he was standing next to me talking …. Knowing the exact words he would say in certain situations.

I’d want to throw all my scrapbooking stuff out the window … I have no desire to “create” anytime soon.

I’d treasure everything I’d see on the farm, even stuff that is “scrap” or that I have no idea what it is.

I'd long for my children to grow up on a farm like I did.

I’d continue to think of my dad so much every single day while missing him more and more … it’s definitely not getting any easier at this point.