The Rural Voice, 1993-10, Page 3414.
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THE FARM
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Tragedy brought her home, and she discovered
where home really was
BY LOUISE MILLIE
She remembered trying to match strides with her
father as a little girl. She remembered the smells of the
newly -ploughed earth, the freshly baled hay, and the
pungent odours of the stables. She remembered the
feel of her horse's soft muzzle next to her cheek, and
scenes of hot; summer days spent on tractors hauling
huge loads of hay flashed through her mind's eye.
Childhood and teenage memories, all of them. Because
she had been an only child, she was her father's right-
hand gal.
"We will be landing in half an hour. Would you
care for anything else?" The voice snapped her back
to reality.
"No thank you," she replied, and turned back
towards the window.
The flight to Toronto had been relatively smooth and
uneventful, as usual, but this time she hadn't paid much
attention to it. Her mind had been far away, and the
impact of the previous day's phone call hadn't yet sunk
in. In some ways, it was just like any other trip home
for a couple of weeks to enjoy the fresh air and simple
living. This one, however, was not like the others.
The phone had been ringing when she came home
early from the office. It had taken her a few moments
to realize the very
distressed voice on
the line was her
mother's.•
"Carolyn?"
"f he voice
was shaking.
"Mother?
What ' s
wrong?"
30 THE RURAL VOICE
Suddenly, she could feel her heart racing.
"Something awful has happened."
"What is it? What happened?" She was in a panic
now.
"It's your father," she sobbed. "He — he's gone."
Carolyn went numb. Her father — the person who
taught her to ride a horse, to drive a tractor, then a car.
The one who always told her he had confidence in her.
The man of few words, but who spoke volumes with
his eyes, whom she had outgrown in height when she
was only eleven, but whose stature towered above all in
her mind. Gone? It couldn't be. He'd be there beside
her mother when she stepped off the plane.
She noticed the slow descent of the jumbo jet, which
came as a relief. She had begun to feel trapped —
suspended in mid-air in this huge piece of sculptured
metal. Gradually, preparations for final approach
began. Now, a question began to bother her. What
would happen to the farm that her father had poured his
heart and soul into for over forty years? It was her
home, her memories, and her escape. Maybe her
cousin could look after it? Deep down though, she
knew the city was far too attractive for him, and the
reality of this economy made taking over a farm very
difficult.
She wasn't even sure who would be waiting to meet
her, as she looked through the sea of anxious,
unfamiliar faces in the airport. All her mother had said
was that she would make sure someone would be there.
Suddenly, she heard her name, turned, and recognized
the family's long-time neighbours. They looked older,
more tired. It was at that precise moment the full
impact of her father's death set in. The tears came
flooding out.
She wasn't surprised at the large number of people