One ordinary car ride made me realize something I wasn't quite prepared for: my children had quietly taken over the driver's seat. That simple moment led me to think about parenting, flower farming, and how every season of life eventually asks us to let go.
Ten years sounds like a long time. Ten visits does not. A story about a father counting the number of times he might realistically see his parents again made me rethink how we measure time. It also made me think about my own children, aging parents, and even farming. Sometimes life isn't measured in years. Sometimes it's measured in visits and seasons.
When both of our kids came home for the weekend, the farm felt a little fuller—and the kitchen became a lot more complicated. Between picky eaters, apartment hunting in New York City, and the daily challenges of growing flowers, I found myself reflecting on how often flexibility matters in both farming and life.
