It was the summer of 1999 that my life changed forever.
Of course there have been changes all along the way, but it was the significance of becoming a first-time dad, twice on the same day in fact, that made that year a milestone when Twins A and B were born.
That was 22 years ago this past July. Bits and pieces of their journey from being delivered several weeks premature to making their way home were shared with readers at the time. Countless friends and readers seemed interested and often asked when an update in a column would come.
While not entirely proper subjects for what is meant to be a serious editorial column, those writings were reflections of life to which many readers related. Their own lives or memories kicked in as a first-time dad talked about having kids. It was a rite of passage so to speak, and eventually their privacy became more important to me. Selfish perhaps, protective for sure.
Looking back during my tenure here it has been quite an evolution – in my thinking, attitudes and feelings about various subjects. I thank my kids for much of that. Seeing the next generation have opportunities is a preoccupation of mine. I just want them to do well, be kind and be happy. Fingers crossed, that plan is working so far.
This past weekend, however, my life changed again.
On Sunday I took a quick trip down to the other farm early in the morning. The history there is personified in hand hewn beams and wooden floors. Much of the stonework stands as it has since day one – strong and resolute; sheltering crops and livestock from perilous weather.
That farm has been home to five generations of Adsetts and next March it will have been in our family for 100 years.
The south face is always a great place to enjoy a sunrise but this year it is extra special because it overlooks a field of sunflowers. It was a great place to stand and quietly think, interrupted only by the cooing of doves and birds singing away. Life is good – what a wonderful, blessed life, I thought.
That peaceful trance was quickly broken after realizing it was high time to get ready. One of those happy moments that few write about or explain was about to unfold.
All I can say is one moment my daughter Brooke’s arm was firmly wrapped in mine and a few strides later she was gone. My little Brookie was married this past weekend at Springbrook farm to a fine young man from Harriston.
It was a spectacular day, despite some minor weather worries. Months of preparation and restoration culminated in a day that will be fondly remembered by all who attended. The old barn saw us through again.
As the next chapter unfolds for another generation of our family, I hope they lead a fulfilling life and remember all roads lead to home.
Congratulations, Darren and Brooke Mick!
