RFA Ethanol Podcast

The Tracks Of My Tears

Melissa Sandfort

fieldsToday Aunt Jeanette writes …

Today was “picking up pipe” day. Normally this is a joyous occasion – filled with laughter, stories (“Remember the time you drove by and honked at me when you knew I was counting rows?”), and reminiscing about the seemingly endless heat of summer. All the while enjoying the scenery – towering cornstalks with ears of corn bursting out of their husks – and imagining the corn flowing from the combine’s auger into the grain cart at harvest time.

Instead, today was somber – hurrying to get the job finished before emotions overtook us. Oops! Too late. I (the driver for the crew) couldn’t help myself. A tear pooled in my eye and trickled down my cheek. I usually try and keep my feelings in check, but this time I just couldn’t do it.

Even though I don’t provide the manual labor required of farmers, I am always in the background being their best cheerleader, encourager, ‘gofer’, etc. I see the countless hours of work, sweat, hope, planning, questioning, and dreaming that go into this profession called farming. And I feel the pain of having those dreams gone in a matter of minutes, caused by a storm that we had no control over.

So, if you see a few teardrops leaving their tracks on my paper, you will know I am thinking about what could have been, but, at the same time, looking forward to what might be – next year.

Because that is what farmers do.

Until we walk again …

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