Keith Malcolm Clegg

A week ago, my sweet Grandpa Clegg passed away. In ways it felt so sudden, but in other ways, I feel like I should have anticipated it more. I miss him. He is my second grandparent to pass away this year, and I hate to see them go.

I am grateful though for the huge amount of time I have been able to know and learn from my grandparents, including my Grandpa Clegg.

My Grandpa was a farmer. I feel like so much of his identity came from farming. I don’t have many memories of going out to the farm because we lived in Oregon while Grandpa was still farming, but I do have one.

It’s pretty vague, and the memories are almost like snapshots of different moments. I remember walking around the barn. I remember Grandpa showing me the different equipment and what it was used for. I remember him letting me “drive” a small “tractor” around (I don’t actually know if it was a tractor, but to me it was!).

I remember how proud Grandpa was of it all. Even in my young, little kid mind, I could tell.

I have loved listening to stories from my Dad and his siblings. And most of my cousins probably have a lot more stories than I do. Looking back on our relationship, I didn’t spend a whole lot of one on one time with my Grandpa Clegg.

But the simplest of memories can still leave big imprints. I remember my Grandpa always making sure to pull me aside during family barbecues and genuinely asking me about my life, my marriage, and my children. And he listened.

He always made me feel like he was proud of me. And I hope he was.

There was something that my Dad said at my Grandpa’s funeral that I have been reflecting on ever since. He told about how when he was growing up, he would ask my Grandpa why they didn’t get a nicer tractor, or more land, or this or that. And Grandpa’s reply was, “we have enough”.

And to many people, perhaps my Grandpa didn’t have very much, but for him, it was enough. He was content with what he had, and he knew he had been blessed.

I have been guilty (probably far too many times) of wishing I had more. But I want to be better. Because I have been incredibly blessed in my life. And one of those most treasured blessings is to have come from such a great man.

When I was little, I always said I wanted to marry a farmer. I don’t know why (especially because I had hardly spent any time on a real farm) but it just sounded so perfectly simple. Maybe it came from that snapshot of a memory of my Grandpa, and how perfectly happy he seemed to be on his farm.

I questioned whether I should share this or not, but I want to make sure I remember it. After I learned of my Grandpa’s passing, I remember kneeling to pray in my closet and it really just felt like too much. It was just a day after Lydia’s appointment, and my emotions were just running high. But I just felt so heavy with everything.

And while I was praying, I had the feeling come to me, that my Grandpa was there. And that he was happy. And that he would be able to help me more on the other side, than if he was still here on earth.

And that brought so much peace. That there was another angel out there for me, and for my family, and for my extended family. I believe in angels. And I believe my Grandpa is helping us along.

Just a Farmer

"Just a farmer", you said,
And I laughed cause I knew
All the things that farmers
Must be able to do.

They must study the land,
Then watch the sky
And figure just when 
Is the right time and why - 

To sow and to plant,
To buy and to sell,
To go to the market
With cattle and well - 

You know the books
That farmers must keep
To pay all those taxes
And be able to sleep. 

And you know the fixin'
That farmers must do
When machines like mad monsters
Blow a gasket or two.

I guess when God needed
Folks to care for his earth,
He chose "Just farmers"
'Cause he knew their true worth. 

- Helen G. Coon -