Everyday on my way to work, I pass wheat fields, now green, but slowly ripening to their golden hue.  And everyday when I see those wheat fields, I think of Grandpa Bland.



Grandpa Bland was the classic farmer and rancher.  He had the grungy old ball cap and the even grungier old blue pickup, the deep lines and callouses on his hands, the smell of diesel on his clothes.


I loved visiting Grandma and Grandpa Bland.  After eating breakfast at their little kitchen table, Grandpa would take me out in “Ol’ Blue” (the pickup) to count cattle.  I would bounce around in excitement, looking through the binoculars he kept under the seat and trying to “help” him find each and every head.


Unfortunately, in his later years, when he needed attention the most, I kind of separated myself from him.  I called it the busyness of college and work and, well…life.

100 Kenneth Bland

Yes, when I pass those wheat fields, I think of Grandpa Bland, of all the memories he gave and of the final parting lesson he taught me (though unintentionally).  Enjoy those around you to the fullest; grab each memorable moment even when you’re busy, for someday, you’ll wish you had.