The Gifts Hidden in the Pivots
Over the past few months, as we've shifted from full-time farm life to focusing more on growing our online shop, we've said goodbye to some very important members of our family.
And when I say Farmer Tom put his whole heart into this journey, that would be an understatement.
It was hard to let go of these beautiful animals that taught us far more than we ever expected. But isn't it amazing how God often places just the right people in our path during the hardest moments?
From the professional rodeo clown from Northern Michigan who calmly and confidently loaded our cattle onto the trailer, to the sweet firefighter from Fort Wayne, Indiana, and his young son who came this past weekend to bring our precious livestock guardian dogs, Bailey and Bella, to their own new beginning on a family farm… each goodbye was softened by the kindness of strangers who quickly felt like friends.
As we reflected on these goodbyes, we realized we've experienced a lot of pivots over the last eight years.
We left our beloved "forever home" outside Chicago and moved to Michigan. Then on to Southwest Florida, where we lived near wonderful friends and family. Then back to Michigan to build our dream farm.
None of those transitions came easily. There were countless moving parts and plenty of moments where we wondered if we were making the right decision.
But around our family table, we talk often about the hard, the good, and the lessons learned. And every single one of us says we'd do it all again.
Not because it was easy.
But because of who it shaped us into.
Tom and I both grew up moving often, and we promised one another that we would give our children a place to call home. Looking back, we're almost shocked by the paths we've traveled and the decisions we've made.
Some choices proved exactly right.
Some didn't.
But every home, every farm, every chapter held gifts we couldn't have found any other way.
The truth we've learned is this:
Home isn't a place.
Home is where we all are.
It's the laughter around the table as our kids retell stories of our adventures and mistakes. It's the safety and love we feel when we're together.
And now, as we enter yet another chapter, we leave the last one full of gratitude and full of life lived.
One of the greatest pivots of all happened sixteen years ago when Grace came into our lives.
Like so many parents receiving an unexpected diagnosis, we wondered what her future would look like. What would it mean to raise a child who might never live independently? What would her life be? What would ours become?
It has taken time, but we've found the answer that brings us the most peace.
Her future isn't separate from ours.
It's woven into it.
As our boys spread their wings into college, careers, and their own adventures, we're grateful to be building something alongside Grace—a future where she continues to create, contribute, and dream with us.
Every transition feels like the last chapter is ending forever.
But we've learned that isn't true.
That's the beauty of this big, beautiful life.
There is always more.
More memories.
More lessons.
More laughter.
More dreams.
And if we want to, we can always return to the places and people that shaped us.
Right now, we're leaning into something we haven't experienced in a long time.
Space.
After years of caring for livestock and the daily rhythm of farm life, we're learning what it means to slow down. To enjoy longer mornings and slower evenings. To know that the animals we loved are cared for, but no longer our responsibility.
That's a big one.
So this summer feels like a pause.
A chance to regroup.
To spend more time together.
To pour candles with Grace.
To create new scents.
To dream new dreams.
To care for the two homes on the market that are ready for new families to make memories in.
(You can see them here, Farm + Naples, Florida Redesign)
To travel with our boys as they prepare for new chapters of college and careers.
And as we watch these six incredible children grow into hardworking, compassionate young men and women, Tom and I find ourselves looking back and gently saying:
Well done.
Not because we did everything perfectly.
But because we did it together.
And while our children continue learning how to spread their wings, we're still learning too.
Learning to let go.
Learning to move on.
Learning that every ending makes room for a new beginning.
How lucky are we that we get to live alongside this family of six children?
So while saying goodbye has been hard, we know there is still so much ahead.
More memories.
More lessons.
More moments to live.
And maybe that's the best part of it all.
With gratitude,
Katie, Farmer Tom, Grace, and the whole crew
