A boy who enjoyed rebuilding an old stonewall more than partying,
who chose to work on surrounding dairyfarms rather than play football,
who spent his money and his time on tractor pursuits instead of female pursuits.
This boy grew into a man. My own.
When he was in highschool, Matt saved up and bought himself a tractor to restore. Which he worked on in the spare moments that weren't spent in school, earning the honor of Eagle Scout, building a Stone wall, marching in band, and working on dairy farms.
He was a productive little buggar, my Mattie.
He did a good job too. More than a decade later, his green and yellow sheetmetal still shines, a prize trophy of his hardwork those days long ago. But there it sat. Quiet. Cold. Covered with an old sliding barn door. Still.
Matt made the decision to sell it recently. A man decision, not one made by a boy. A boy would still want that trophy-but the man saw more important matters needed tending to. The boy would see the glisten of green and hear the "Pop Pop" of the engine and not want to part with it. The man saw only a lifeless, still piece of equipment.
The man chose to close a chapter in his book and write a new one. He chose to say goodbye to a piece of his past that was still and silent, in order to open up for his family a working, usable future.
He was proud of his decision, and I was incredibly proud of him. But still, it was hard for me to see it go-to see that piece of his childhood drive off to start a new chapter in someone elses' life.
Thankfully, not so for Matt.
Now, what exactly did the selling of his John Deere provide for our future? THAT, my friends, will have to be shared another day.
But it's Big news.
That makes me feel all warm and toasty inside.
(And Matt, too.)
Thank you Mattie, for providing so well for your family.
You bless us with your wisdom and by the strength of your hands.