Truth from the Trenches by Melissa Hart 

 

It’s post-election week, and the nation is seeing red.

For those of you who’ve been hiding under a rock, that means the Republican Party has taken control of the U.S. House of Representatives and the Senate. And several states have kept or voted in Republican governors.

I just have to give out one pat on the back after the 2014 election year.

I want to give kudos to East Coast dairyman Ed Crossland. He’s been a dairy farmer and a lawyer and now he’s been elected judge to the Orphan’s Court in Maryland.

I have long said it’s important for the agricultural community to serve in public offices.

When farmers or agriculturalists run for office and win, no matter the level of government, they bring with them not only business sense, but a work ethic and common sense that is essential to planting and harvesting and taking care of livestock.

They can’t help but bring a healthy and refreshing perspective to the table full of political correctness and “politics as usual.”

Now I have a confession to make. Last weekend, as I was finishing up dinner, my son called.

He usually texts, so it was odd that he was calling.

I answered and he began to explain to me that he was in the emergency room for a broken arm.

When I asked how he broke his arm, he said he wrecked his dirt bike (this is where the confession comes in).

I said in my mom voice, “I told you that would happen! I said you would break something – you’re lucky it was just your arm!”

And then I softened and doled out some compassionate words of encouragement.

I’m not proud of that first reaction. I should have responded, instead of reacting. I guess compassion is lost for a kid who is intelligent and is on a first-name basis with every person in the ER, when he breaks his arm accelerating over a jump so he can catch more air and go higher than last time.

But, as his mom, I’ve watched his daredevil push-it-as-far-as-it-can-go personality since he could walk and I realize this will probably not be the last visit to the ER.

He’s the cause for my calloused knees, and I will be there again as he goes in for surgery and comes out with hardware in his arm.

My love for this one runs deep, but I spend a lot of my time shaking my head and saying, “Oh, Luke …”

Can I get a witness?

The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of Farm World. Readers with questions or comments for Melissa Hart may write to her in care of this publication.