I knew the day would come, but yet I never was able to prepare myself emotionally for it = the day the Farm would sell. The farm had been a part of our family since the mid 1800's. It was my mother's childhood home. It was the place I most enjoyed as a child. Unfortunately, it's difficult to farm a small operation these days and also to have the money to afford to purchase something like this. My father and I bought lottery tickets hoping we would be blessed enough to make the purchase, but it wasn't to be.
The weekend before the sale, I made my last visit. I stood by the fence where I used to sit under the big oak tree and look out over Hardinsburg and talk to the cattle. I wandered to the backyard, remembering when we helped Grandma with her garden and also played baseball/football. I laughed as I passed by the meat house, thinking of when we used to be scared of it, because of stories my grandfather used to tell. As I continued around the house, in amazement still sat the "big" water bowl for the dogs. I remembered how many times we sat out back under the shade tree, the wind so peacefully blowing and just enjoyed the quiet calm.
The Farm was my place of quiet refuge. There was always a sense of peace and protection that came over me when I was there. As much as I hated to see it leave our family, I know the place will be well taken care of, enjoyed and loved as much as we did.
