Life is a constant cycle of beginnings and endings with a whole lot of “stuff” in between.
That “stuff” tends to define the quality of the next beginning and the sentimentality of ending memories. Some might come with a feeling that is a big sigh of relief, while others we wish could go on for a long time.
In the past two weeks, I have watched college seniors march across the stage sharing memories of their four years on campus.
They have forged life on their own and now there is a sense of pride as that college diploma is about to be claimed.
With it, they have so many memories of academics, social life, clubs, loyal friendships, and (of course) some debt.
All are inevitable experiences that will define the future about to unfold next.
As I watch them swinging and swaying to the lyrics of Carmen Ohio, it also defines my life and the memories of that day when Dr. Roy Kottman handed me a diploma. It was an ending and a beginning with a lot of mystery.
All these years later, that curiosity is now the reality of how teaching and students have defined the “stuff” of my life.
Even the dairy industry has posed some reflection on alternate endings.
There continues to be more and more dairies bidding farewell to decades of cows on the farm. Changing times, economics, deplorable weather conditions, and health are bringing about untimely endings.
These stories have created a rush of mixed emotions for the people who have given their entire lives to and with their cows.
Weathered brows and callused hands are exteriors that do not reflect the passionate hearts that are aching by the twists of fate that have turned their lives upside down and inside out.
Even Hoard’s reports that we have lost 72% of all dairy farmers since 2000, and yet cow numbers remain nearly the same.
I understand that change is inevitable but it does not always offer favorable outcomes.
Saying goodbye
Last week, we also learned of the ending of a special person within Ohio’s dairy industry. Dr. Pete Spike was a part of so many beginnings and endings for students, dairy advocates, and the Holstein purebred business.
He was a quiet genius with facts and figures and he had an unbelievable amount of patience, tutoring and coaching up and coming judges.
Pete was respected nationwide for his years of service to the industry and his retirement had yielded even more productivity for and with dairy folks.
He wore many hats of importance and often times, he was required to layer a few extra ones because the job just needed to get done.
His life was shared with so many of us as a peer, a mentor, an educator and yet he was an accomplished musician with Jean at the piano beside him.
Each of us can tell our own story and memories about Pete, but now (sadly) it has become past tense.
So here I am at the end of this article and I must create some statement of connection.
That “stuff” in between is how you honor life.
True to form, I am behind on finishing this article, but I am living life with a new beginning of twin calves born just as I was attempting to end this Easter Sunday.
