Desperate Farmwife: the difficult part of living away from home

There are many decisions I have made in life that I have absolutely no regrets about. I do not regret marrying my dear aul’ husband, even though we don’t always see eye to eye on everything.

Despite what any long-time readers of this column might think, I do not regret moving to a busy family farm and getting stuck in. I might complain, but that’s different (and usually justified).

I will never regret our beautiful children, who drive me absolutely insane but are their own wonderful, individualistic people with bright futures ahead of them.

I do not regret my off-farm career, even though things are busy and often difficult to balance with family, farm and job. I love what I do.

In fact, I could say I have almost no regrets in my life. Almost.

Distance

The only thing I wish I could change about my situation is the distance I live from my own family. Particularly, as my own family ages and needs more of my support as they get older.

My parents live a good bit away from the farm and I was the “baby cousin”; the last child to be born in our generation on one side of my family.

I have many elderly aunties and uncles to whom I am extremely close. My mother worked a full-time job my whole life, so I spent many hours in the homes of these aunties and uncles.

They raised me as much as my own parents did. I love them so much, and it is difficult to have to leave them and say goodbye when I take the children home for weekend visits.

“What if it’s the last time we ever see each other?” I always wonder.

I wish I could be closer to them. To drive them to appointments or help them when they need things done around their houses.

I wish I could invite them over to the farm for dinner or even for an extended stay, but at their age they do not like long car journeys and prefer to stay close to home.

Guilt

I feel guilty when my siblings, who still live near our home place, feel pressure to support our parents while they, too, are raising small children and have busy careers.

I wish I could get home to help more often, but our situation on the farm and with our own family often keep me glued to one location.

No one has ever said anything to me about this; the guilt I feel is entirely of my own making. I think this is something that happens to most of us who have moved away as we get older, and as our loved ones get older.

You don’t think about these things when you’re young and carefree; when all you want to do is see the world and have an adventure.

I think that is a similar experience for many Irish people, especially those of my own millennial generation. We had itchy feet. We went out and saw a bit of the world.

Many of us met our future spouses not at the local disco, but while working in Australia or on a backpacking trek in Nepal. I know this because that is how I met my own husband (yes, reader – he used to love to leave the farm and go on holidays).

Now, I ache when I have to leave my home place after a nice visit with family and friends. I love the farm, I have no life regrets, but it hurts my heart to leave my elderly family members.

There is nothing for it but to keep going, though. They would say that to me themselves.

Sure, when they were younger their siblings moved to America and England for work and they would go years without seeing each other – I am not as far removed. I think our relatives understand, better than most, that life happens to us and not the other way around.

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