Today my folks are selling 61 acres of the family farm. It's 31 tillable acres, 28 CRP acres and the rest is timber. If you look at this picture, the land is behind the tree line is being sold.
The folks will pay off some bills, including medical bills of dads, pay off a loan and put the rest into cd's that will generate some interest for them. It will make a big difference in their monthly income. Dad will still fall into the donut hole each year, but maybe they won't be broke by the 20th of each month.
It's being sold for all the right reasons.
There's still about 60 acres left. I live on this farm - and the picture is the view from my office window. Yet, I still mourn. This was where I lived the first 5 years of my life and then my grandparents lived here. I ran and played in the those fields. I have favorite trees in the timber. My grandpa and I would drive to the top of the field and sit on the truck and see for miles. He'd say "Deby, one day this will be yours."
Grandpa knew I'd go off into the big world and become a writer. He encouraged me to read and write all the time. He also knew I'd come home one day.
I'm not going to farm those acres. I am going to miss them.
My friend the preacher said I needed to mourn the loss. I think I am.