Clarity At Last

Last week, dear reader, while I was caught up in a spiral of worry over our market season, our new events, our farm, our goats, my kid, and pretty much anything else that could peck away at my peace, we received the brightest ray of sunshine when I needed it most. Now, allow me to say, we have the absolute best people in our soap family. You all make every event a pleasure, make my work feel worthwhile, and you step up for us without asking anything in return. From cards of thanks, encouragement, or sympathy, to fun little treats like handmade bags, soap accessories, and handmade creations. Truly, you are part of our circle, and I appreciate you. 

I received the most beautiful card from C. Louise Seger. First, the card was covered in birds. I am a bird nerd, through and through, so seeing the artwork made me smile immediately. Secondly, she shared the loveliest memories of her childhood spent here on our farm, from using the spring house to cool the milk and make butter using beautiful molds, to family reunions, to funny little bits about her family, the Heilburns. It was so wonderful to read about how this farm positively impacted her and her family, creating lifelong memories. I loved it, and it was exactly what I needed on a very trying day.

So, dear reader, as is how my overactive little brain works, I began thinking a lot about this farm and the role that it has played in not just my family, but for generations of other families before me, from individuals who rented this farm when it was out of the family, and for what I hope this farm means to my future family. Speaking to the generations I know personally, my parents, my grandparents, and my child, this farm has been a haven. It has been a place of great happiness, love, wonderful memories, and an escape from the busy, intrusive outside world. Working the land, raising animals, rearing children, building a life and a home have crafted a legacy of peace, love, happiness, joy, wonder, and life experiences not found anywhere else. 

This farm was my dad's pride. He was so proud that he could once again restore this farm to the Tonkin family. He put so much of himself into restoring, improving, and rebuilding what was once lost. He would sit in the rockers on the front porch and dream about his retirement when he would be a "gentleman farmer" and enjoy a slower-paced life. He had goals and dreams for this place. His oak trees would create a beautiful canopy. His fields would be filled with beef cattle. He would spend the day on the tractor mowing hay, while someone else stacked it, of course. He was going to build a little cabin in the woods as a folly. He was going to teach his grandchildren about farming, animals, and the rewards of rural life. Sadly, he passed before he made those visions come true. 

For my Grandma Tilly, this farm was her happy place. She reared her family here, laughed over the antics of her boys, and tried to maintain a tight ship with eight little hooligans running around. When Tilly spoke of the farm, she always smiled. A smile didn't always come easily to Tilly. However, when she reminisced about her time on the farm with her boys and my aunt, the animals, and the work that went into farming, she always seemed more peaceful and happier. 

For myself, this farm is the one remaining connection I have to a family I view as lost. My family is gone in a way more painful than death, I believe sometimes. However, I have this connection to the place that those I loved most cared for, dreamed on, and found respite from the world. This farm brings me peace, joy, contentment, and a sense of gratitude I can't adequately explain. To walk these fields with my husband, child, and beloved dog every day is a peace like no other. To share the stories of my dad and his brothers with them makes me feel like a piece of them is still right here with me. Having a vision for a successful life built on the land I love makes my cup runneth over. It gives me a sense of purpose, hope, inspiration, and deep contentment. 

For my daughter, this farm is home, safety, security, acceptance, and love. She knows that here she is safe and accepted despite what the outside world may show her. When a teenager prefers to be home rather than out and about in the world, you know you have something special. This farm is our safe place, our haven. 

So, dear reader, I have come to a decision. I have finally settled on a name for my beloved farm, and C. Lousie Seger, your card, and your stories helped me make that decision. I want to name my farm Oak Haven Heritage Farm. Oak, in honor of my dad, who planted all the oak trees coming in the lane. The oak represents everything my dad stood for to me: strength, shelter, deep roots, and connection. Haven, because Merriam Webster defines a haven as: a harbor, port, or any place of safety, refuge, and sanctuary. It implies a secure location that offers protection from danger, trouble, or the elements. Heritage, because the farm is not only my heritage but also the heritage of generations of other families who came before the Tonkins, and it was built in the 1800s. So, Oak Haven Heritage Farm shall be her name. She is my safe space, my sanctuary, my harbor. Thank you, Louise, for helping me see my vision more clearly. I appreciate you beyond words. 

Now, I have one bib-overall-wearing husband to overwhelm with all my ideas for the vision I now have in my head for Oak Haven Heritage Farm. GramBarb says to find something you are good at and stick with it. I certainly know how to make my husband twitchy; I'm sticking with it (Insert a wink).  

On this lovely May day, stay safe, be smart. Thank you for being a light in trying times. I appreciate all of you who read, share, comment, and take the time to make me a part of your day. Thank you all for the inspiration. C. Louise Seger, we need a lunch date, and I foresee a box of goodies in your future. Much love and appreciation to you. Oh, I almost forgot, keep washing your hands!