Labor Day
A day to recognize the worker and the goodness of work.
A day to rest.
The clock just clicked past mid-night. 85 years old and now he's resting, finally. The work never stops even though we rest. It continues to accumulate ready to be tackled once rest is over.
Russel, always planning, reading, inquiring about the next project at the farm. After long, drawn out discussions, often for months, about what will happen, what will be planted, built, cut, graded and so on, Russel relinquished control of the property to Katherine and I. It will be a good thing, managing the property. We just had to pry his grip from his everyday control. After the transaction, he was much more at rest with his decision. He didn't need to carry it for so long, but he did. Workers do that, I guess.
So here I am, Labor Day, having a beer, planning some meetings, phone calls, getting ready for the next day. Lots to do really. Passing the baton is a simple task but what it represents determines the next leg of the race. The realization of that responsibility is sinking in and it doesn't happen until the passer lets go.
Russel can rest now.
Thanks Russ
June 5, 1929 - September 1, 2014
