Each of us has a different definition of home. Many people think of home as somewhere or someone with whom they can be fully themselves, like with partners, friends, or family members like Grandma and Grandpa.

However, home can also be tied to one’s past, present, and/or future.

My concept of home is multi-faceted and incorporates people and places. Throughout my life, one home has remained constant. It’s where several generations of my family have lived and encompasses land, buildings, a community, and of course, belonging, love, acceptance, and safety.

Grandma and Grandpa’s Farm is in My DNA

“This is it. This is the farm!” I exclaimed, bouncing in my seat. I was six years old and directing family friends to my grandma and grandpa’s farm.

It was dark, but I had already confidently pointed out which gravel road to turn on.

I knew we were on my family’s modestly sized farmland. There were no particular landmark locations that showed we were nearly there.

My grandparents’ farmland looked much like any other. I can’t tell you how I knew this was our farm, but it was a certainty deep in my bones, a map etched into my heart.

Sure enough, when they checked the mailbox, my grandparents’ last name was on it.

They turned onto the private gravel road that led to the farm.

My grandparents were waiting on the porch, and as soon as the car was parked, they headed toward it.

I threw open the door and scrambled out, jumping into my grandma’s arms and reaching for my grandpa too. I was squished in a hug, and my cheeks were covered in kisses from my grandma.

Grandpa shook hands with the friends and chatted, then got my luggage while Grandma carried me into the farmhouse. I couldn’t stop smiling and clung to my grandma, saying over and over, “Grandma, Grandma, Grandma.”

Communities Support One Another

My grandparents lived in rural northeastern Montana. The small farming communities here make up the backbone of Montana and feed many people. The nutrients from the soil enrich the produce—mostly wheat when I was younger, with a greater variety of crops now.

These communities exemplify comradery and support each other.

For example, when we visited five or six years ago, our car broke down near Scobey. It was towed to a nearby garage. However, no one was available to fix it, and I had to be back in Billings for work.

As word spread, we had multiple people offer to lend us one of their cars. In larger communities, that would be unlikely. Here, people jump in to help.

One is never left alone with challenges unless one wants to be. There is a strong commitment to community, which enhances everyone’s lives.

Neighbors are always welcome. I learned as a young girl how to reheat coffee, offer molasses or chocolate chip cookies and zucchini or banana bread, and be a good hostess for anyone who might drop by the farm when I was there.

Love and Learning at the Farm With Grandma and Grandpa

My grandparents shared their knowledge about farming and life. They taught me how to drive the truck when I was young, as a matter of practicality. I learned to drive the tractor, too.

I helped take care of the garden and loved to dig my bare toes into the soil. It felt like silky powder when it was dry, and there were many nutrients in the soil.

My brother and I would weed, hoe, and water the garden. We’d also help ourselves to ripe strawberries and peas. It made our grandparents laugh to see how much we could eat. We’d dig up new potatoes or pick corn, beans, or other ripe veggies for dinner.

The first time I stayed up at the farm without my parents, my grandpa helped me make a wooden boat that floated. He had picked out the wood, and he’d marked where I needed to saw it.

Grandma and Grandpa had so Much Wisdom to Share

He demonstrated how to hold the saw and the wood and had me try. I was so proud when I sawed all the pieces for my boat.

Grandpa showed me how to nail everything together for a little boat with a wooden spool for a smokestack. He filled a trough with clean water, and I sailed my boat in it. It was my favorite bath toy for a while.

That same summer, Grandma taught me how to embroider dish towels. She showed me how to outline, make French knots, satin, and daisy stitch that year, and let me choose colors from her collection of floss to make the towels look pretty.

She and Grandpa proudly used the towels I embroidered.

My youngest aunt taught me how to ride horses. I’d put on her old jean jacket, roll up the cuffs, and go for rides with her around the area.

She’d often take me to ponds where I’d search for snails; she thought it was gross. I don’t know what Grandma thought when I came back smeared with mud and pond scum with snails in my pockets. However, she always had an old Cool Whip container ready with some fresh water for me to put the snails in.

I was spoiled whenever I traveled to the farm. I was close to my grandpa and my aunt, and especially close to my grandma.

Generational Gifts Found In the Stories and Fabric of Their Lives

When visiting the farm, I’d learn something new every year. Both my grandma and grandpa shared family history.

I would hear about past generations, look at photos, and absorb ancestral strengths and gifts. I heard about some ancestral trauma, but mostly the older generations’ secrets stayed buried.

My grandparents taught me ways of being in and honoring the world around us. I discovered how to watch nature for patterns. The sky gave hints to what the weather would be like later.

The land shows details as to the location of water; trees in this area are one possible sign of water, as are darker green and specific types of plants. I noticed how water carves the landscape and how the path of creeks and rivers changes.

Nature shares so much wisdom with those who listen and observe.

My grandpa taught me how to fix things and make do with what one has, though my brother learned more about that than I did.

I was more interested in learning crafts from my grandma. She and my mom taught me to sew, embroider, bead, cross-stitch, latch hook, tat, crochet, knit, punch-needle embroider, and more.

Grandma had me help her hem Grandpa’s pants, patch some clothes, and otherwise take care of what they had to make it last longer. They grew up during the Depression. Nothing was thrown out until it couldn’t be fixed, patched, or otherwise reused; this helped the environment and also saved money.

The Farm Was My Favorite Place

The farm was my haven. It was where I felt the most free. I could run wild, discover, and explore whatever and wherever I wanted, as long as I was within shouting distance or told them exactly where I was going.

I could climb trees without anyone clamoring at me to be careful, discover how to easily get through barbed wire fencing and protect my skin and clothes, and find treasures hidden in the fallow fields and prairie—wildflowers, agates, petrified wood, robin’s egg shells, feathers, and more.

I’d come back with dirt everywhere, feet covered in dried mud, hair mussed up and carrying bits of the prairie, and streaks of dirt, etc., on my face. My grandparents simply laughed and had me leave as much of the prairie outside as I could.

I’m sure my grandma also laughed at the treasures in my pockets when she did laundry.

The time I spent at the farm felt like heaven to me.

Visiting Town Was an Adventure

We would travel to town, and I learned that one gets dressed up for that. Grandma would put on her favorite agate necklace or one she crocheted out of pearly beads and thread, as well as lipstick.

She would sometimes braid my hair in two braids and tie them with pink satin ribbons. Once we looked our best, we would head to town. When we went to Scobey, we’d visit my grandma’s mom and aunt, and I delighted in helping them when we took walks.

They were both legally blind. My great-grandma would proudly tell everyone I was her great-granddaughter and that I was such a good helper.

When we went to Glasgow, we visited my grandpa’s mom and sister. My great-grandma knew I loved jelly beans, so she always had some in a bowl for me.

She’d make up goodie bags with her famous chocolate chip cookies, jelly beans, and other candy for us.

My grandparents would always buy us little treats—candy and a toy or craft kit. I usually picked out crafts, like a kitty cross-stitch or unicorn latch hook.

They told everyone we were visiting and would proudly introduce us to people and talk about how wonderful we were. It was always a huge self-esteem boost.

Starting and Ending the Day with Affection From Grandma and Grandpa

At the end of the day, my grandma would read to us and tuck us into bed. I would sometimes sleep under a hundred-year-old crazy quilt that her grandma had made and given to her.

I’d drift off to sleep quickly, and she’d wake me gently in the mornings to tell me how much she loved me, what a precious girl I was, etc.

I woke up to kisses and happiness.

I never knew all the adventures each day at the farm would hold; that made it full of endless opportunity, wonder, discovery, joy, laughter, and plenty of love.

Changes and Challenges, Belonging and Love

My grandpa sold the farm over a decade ago. He and Grandma hadn’t farmed in a while, and none of their children or grandchildren wanted to take it over.

Farming is difficult, especially these days. Fewer small farms exist, and those that do need to compete with corporate farms.

The climate has changed quite a bit, making farming more challenging in the north country and elsewhere. The summers are much hotter. There’s a lot less snow in the winter.

It breaks my heart to see once-thriving communities shrink. However, the people here are strong and resilient. They have survived through all the changes, and their community spirit remains strong.

Part of my Heart Will Always be North of “The Middle of Nowhere”

This kind of connection to a place can not be found on any map.

Even though I didn’t grow up there, this land is engraved in my bones, flows in my veins, and lives in my DNA.

Part of my heart will always live along the hi line, north of the middle of nowhere. I will forever be shaped by my experiences here. This space, especially the farm, will always be home and a place to heal.

Is there a place like this that lives in your heart? Let us know in the comment section below!