I awakened suddenly from a deep sleep at 6:48 this morning, highly unusual that I would sleep that late but I am on vacation for the next 11 days. Today is the three month anniversary of Ed's passing. 
I got a call from Hiron's Monuments yesterday that his headstone was completed and set at the cemetery. I went right after work to see it and here it is....Ed now lies beneath a monument that depicts one part of his life that was so special to him....his beloved farm. Yesterday I recalled to his family with vivid detail a moment on our honeymoon on July 2 at Wall, SD....fourteen years ago. We pulled into Wall with the truck camper and started walking down the street to see what the fuss was all about....Ed pointed out a bank clock above us that showed the date....7.2.2001....and he said, "Happy Birthday, Dad!" Then he went on to say, "Monk, can you believe that my dad is celebrating his first birthday in heaven with Jesus?" Yesterday Ed was celebrating WITH his dad in heaven on what would have been his dad's 100th birthday.
So much has transpired in the past three months. In some ways things have gotten easier but in many others they remain difficult. I find myself missing my identity as a farm wife. I loved being identified with farming and the noble profession of farming. I have been involved in farming since the age of six when my dad bought our beef farm. Never, never have I felt disconnected from farming. That was one of the things that Ed and I shared on the deepest level....our love of the land.
I loved that Ed, either through his own crops or through his knowledge and expertise, helped farmers to produce better crops and promoted stewardship of the land, God's gift to us. He frequently said he wanted a sign at the end of the road that said "God's Farm-We are Temporary Caretakers".
I miss that part of my identity. With the land and grain facility leased out, and the farmstead for sale, I no longer have a stake in the risks and rewards of growing a crop. I miss the daily phone calls from farmers and the pickup trucks in and out of the barnyard. I miss his daily reports to me on commodity prices and rainfall. I miss the sound of his keyboard as he typed out his blog and contributed to NAT.
Which brings me to the true substance of this post. With the placement of his headstone, I have tried to ensure that Ed will be remembered as a farmer.
You may wonder why I mentioned the exact time of my awakening this morning. Three months ago today, Ed passed at 6:49 AM.
Have a blessed day, LuAnn
