A Legacy Of Happiness

“Take responsibility for your own happiness; never put it in other people’s hands.”  ― Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart

Eric and I have been married for seventeen years. Most of those seventeen years have been an enjoyable adventure. We’ve completed two major renovations of two old homes and are living in one as we remodeled. We’ve each buried our beloved dads. I resigned from my teaching position, and we went to one income. Eric worked away more often than not, and we held it together. We’ve faced infertility issues, and we’ve gone on the roller coaster ride of the adoption route. We’ve worked together to rear one amazing, joy-filled, fierce little girl. Eric has worked for a man he genuinely respected and admired for the past eight years. He’s worked for a company he felt was moving in a positive direction and would make a mark on an industry. I often say that most of the time, we feel blessed beyond belief. However, as many of you know, when it rains, it pours.

On October 29th, Eric was notified that his company would close his department. We have been very fortunate; we have never experienced downsizing before. After a week or so of becoming accustomed to the idea of the loss of income, as par for the course, I began to panic, and Eric began to stew. Eric had good job offers. He had job offers to improve our financial situation, but there was a hitch. To accept these offers, he would basically have to live in a hotel and see us on the weekends if we were lucky. Our entire life would have to change. We would have to give up what we value most: time together as a family, surrounding ourselves with creatures we love and respect, and raising our little girl in an enriching environment, and on the farm, her grandfather was at his happiest. We had years of being apart, and honestly, we have become spoiled by having Eric work from home most of the time. This would all have to change, and the thought of this angered my husband.

Eric does not anger easily. He is the epitome of calm, rational, and collected. He is slow to anger, but he is a fearsome force when he does. Very rarely do I see the look in his eye that should strike fear into the heart of the roughest character. My husband had this look. After a week or so of my quiet panic…or maybe not so quiet…he sat me down and explained his position. He told me he was angry and that this job loss had become personal for him. He told me he had looked over everything and thought we could make a go of life on the farm. He told me, “Never again will I give someone that much power over me.” He doesn’t want our daughter, who we have fought so hard for, to see him a few times a month. He doesn’t want to sell our beloved farm to move where there is work. He doesn’t want to sell our animals off just so we can have a steady paycheck for a while, but for what length of time is uncertain.

So, we have taken back the power. We agree wholeheartedly to jump into this new endeavor together and see where it will take us. Are we afraid? Absolutely! We both have an entrepreneurial spirit. My dad was a self-made man, and I grew up watching him make decisions, succeeding and struggling, but in the end, feeling that overwhelming sense of self-worth, pride in hard work, and accomplishment. I want to pass on that legacy to Jordan. I want to build something my girl can be proud of and jump into if she chooses. Most of all, I want her to see the worth in hard work, the reward of struggles, and the strength in knowing that even if something doesn’t turn out the way you plan, you will be okay.

We have taken control of our happiness. We begin this new year as entrepreneurs and full-time farmers. We are looking forward to this new chapter and to sharing our struggles, wins, and losses with you. If you believe in positive energy, please send some our way. Rest assured, this will make for some fascinating tales.