Last Thursday, Benj and I had to make the tough decision to put down a beef cow unexpectedly due to delivery complications — and after a long battle, we lost the calf too. Ugh. Things like this hit a little farm hard, emotionally and financially.
Sometimes you just have to make a decision and move forward best you can. As the sun went down, we got to work. Strong fans hummed to keep the mosquitos off us in the thick summer air as we quartered and packed meat to chill late into the night. On Independence Day, instead of relaxing, our whole family spent the day grinding beef and wrapping cuts.
It wasn’t how I pictured the holiday. But even in the middle of the solemn work, I felt thankful.
Grateful we had the skills. Grateful we could still salvage good meat. Grateful for the kind of freedom that comes with knowing how to feed our family — and also grateful to live in a world where butchers usually carry that load.
I’ve come to learn that in farming, loss is inevitable. But if you’re prepared — if you’ve built the skills, the connections, and the mindset — you can turn that loss into nourishment when you’re fortunate (like this time), and into resilience and hard-won wisdom when you’re not.
Farming will always have its seasons of loss, but I’m learning to lean into the gratitude — and trust joy will meet us even here.
“Though the fig tree should not blossom… yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” — Habakkuk 3:17–18
With gratitude, Leah Matzke & the Great Heritage Farm Family
