My dad is 81 and still runs a sheep farm and caravan park. A hardy Argyll crofter. He fell on the rocks the other day when gathering sheep from the island and has massive bruising on his elbow. The pain has been keeping him up during the night however he naturally dismissed any suggestions of seeing a doctor.
Offers of help are also generally dismissed as my dad has always worked the farm pretty much himself. An exception was my grampa coming to help with the lambing every year when he was alive-something he did right up until the day before he died at 84. Another hardy Argyll crofter.
Initially, I adopted a 'och let me help you' approach as I expected a sharp rebuff (which has always hurt a bit). However, part of being brave as fuck is mindfulness, open heartedness and authenticity rather than listening to old stories. So I said to my dad-"I like to help-it makes me feel good". He stared at me and then said "could I trouble you to close the gate for me, then".
Since then, I have been helping out loads-I have found ways to make myself useful-I have held the syringes while he dosed and marked the lambs and opened the gate to let them into different pens. And he has let me help more and more, explaining the ways of the sheep and the land as we work. I have felt closer to my Dad these last few days as I understand more of his life and his world #authenticitynotstories #openheartednessrocks #braveasfuck.
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