I saw the sign when we pulled into the farm.
For sale.
It was late at night when I arrived at Wilaway Farm, which is my parents’ horse farm in Langley, B.C., on Aug. 8. It had been a long day of travel from Estevan to Langley, with a layover in Calgary that lasted more than three hours.
But I saw the sign that indicated my parents were finally trying to sell the farm after 20 years of ownership. For both mom and dad, it represents the longest they have ever lived in one location.
Confession time: I wasn’t always keen on the farm. Mom grew up on a farm near Weyburn (Leguee Family Farm, for those of you in the know in the southeast agriculture community). So she was thrilled when we purchased a 4.3-acre farm in rural Langley in 1999.
My sister, Christa, is gifted when it comes to handling horses. She has been around them all of her life. She has worked for stables in France and Australia, and was actually working in France when we bought the farm. She, too, was excited.
Dad didn’t grow up around horses, but he brought the same work ethic and determination to the farm that he brought to everything else in life.
As for me, I know nothing about horses, other than how to bet on them.
I moved to Estevan a year after my folks purchased the farm, so I never really learned how to feed them or care for them or look after them. I definitely had no desire to spend my vacation shovelling horse manure every day.
I told my folks that working in the newspaper industry and following provincial and federal politics so closely, I dealt with enough horse crap as it was. I didn’t need to shovel more on my vacations.
(Believe it or not, that excuse actually worked).
And I rarely ventured into the stables to greet the horses.
A few years after I moved out here, my attitude changed. I realized that the tranquility and isolation were not detriments, but a blessing. It was my chance to get away from the hectic work of the newspaper business, and to do so in a beautiful setting.
During the summer months, I’ll spend the afternoon on the patio, drinking a wonderful B.C. craft beer and reading a book.
I’ll venture to the stables each day and say hi to the horses. Big Ned, who I owned 10 per cent of, back when we hoped he’d turn into a successful race horse, remains my favourite.
It’s also a great place to bring friends for a visit.
The eventual sale of the farm is bittersweet. I love spending time out there. I know how much my family loves to be out there.
But I also know that my parents are getting older, and they’ve earned the right to enjoy retirement. Dad spent 30 years with the RCMP; mom had a 39-year career as a nurse. They worked tirelessly in their careers; they haven’t let up on the farm.
It’s also kept my folks in pretty good shape. Dad’s in better condition now than he was 25 years ago, when he was still in the RCMP. Mom’s always taken good care of herself.
One of them can take off for a week or two for a holiday, and leave the other to look after the farm. But they can’t go together, unless my sister is around to tend to the horses. She has a life and a career of her own.
Mom and Dad have been out here together twice in the last 15 years.
I want them to be able to travel, and to enjoy the retirement they earned. I hope they get to drive across Canada and see sites they haven’t seen before. I hope they get to visit cities and sites they have always wanted, and they’ll get to attend those horse races that are on their bucket list.
I doubt this will be the last time I’m out at the farm, because I hope to be in B.C. again next winter. But it might be my last summer visit, which is sad, because it’s so much more fun in the summer, when the days are longer and the sun is shining, than in the winter, when it’s cool and dreary, and the barn area is muck.
I’m making it a point to enjoy this trip, because the days I’ll have out there are limited.
And I’m carrying lots of positive memories, of poker nights with friends from university, of Christmas dinners, of playing “ball” with Jessie, the world’s least intimidating barn dog, of time spent with family and friends, and of lazy summer days on the patio, when the only time I had to get up was when my beer was empty.
Incidentally, if you’ve ever wanted to own a 4.3-acre horse farm, with sturdy barns and a renovated home, and you’re willing to move to B.C., let me know. I know of a great place for you.
