Remembrances
It has been two years since you left us. Yet, if I blink my eyes... I can see you sitting in your favorite chair. I can hear your voice as you talk about the state of the crops, or the condition of the cattle market. I can recall your playful tone when I called and said, "It's Joni", and you responded, "It is you, isn't it?". Or when it was Mom's turn, you handed her the phone, and said, "It's Jopey." I have memories of you crawling under whatever tractor decided it was good to break down during planting season--or a combine with the same crazy idea during harvest. Your implement store cap, bill upturned, shading your face, but never stopping the dust of the Plains from coating your face. The grease from a thousand and one repairs never completely erased from under your nails. The farmer's tan, earned from decades of working under the sweltering Kansas sun. Wrestling and roughly rubbing down a newborn calf to coax warmth and li...