Watercolor Wednesday: Those who have gone before us

I love this farm scene painted by my dad. To me it evokes the fields of grain, blowing in the breeze, under the wide Midwestern skies.

My memories of farm life from my paternal side focus on Waseca, Minnesota, where my grandma and great aunt lived, near neighbors separated by a wide open space. 

Aunt Elin I only knew in her decline, as dementia started its slow ravaging on her fine mind. She’s one of the communion of saints I look forward to getting to know when we’re reunited, for she’s now fully herself, her mind restored and made new. She sacrificed her high-flying marketing career to return home to the farm to take care of her aging parents, both of her brothers having died before them. Her home was the place to visit for my dad and his siblings, for she owned probably the only black-and-white television in rural Waseca.

Grandma Boucher I knew much better, for she remained clear in her mind and lived into her nineties. She had survived her husband’s death when he was 41 from polio. He was fine on the Wednesday and died on the Sunday. A doting wife, she didn’t know the workings of the farm. The years were tough, and I can only imagine her grief and shock, a widow with four children. She had a gentle spirit and a loving heart, and I look forward too to hearing stories of God’s provision in those hard times. 

Do you have stories from a farm? Stories of loved ones you’re looking forward to being reunited with?