As much as my family and I anticipate Winter and the slower pace it presents here on our farm, we simultaneously dread it in the sense that we are aware that the time is approaching during which we must say our goodbyes to our migrant workers. Some people might read that sentence and find it to be dramatic, or unrealistic, whereas others who are involved in farming and rely on the assistance from these incredibly hard-working men will see an innate understanding of the difficulty in saying farewell to these men who have become a part of our family.
Salome, one of our workers, has been coming to our farm each and every year, for eight months, for 35 years. He was around long before my sister and me, and he has watched us grow up; now, two of his sons, Alejandro and Omar, also come to our farm with Salome to work.
The sacrifice these men make is almost incomprehensible. They leave their families, friends and loved ones for two-thirds of a calendar year and do so to provide a better quality of life for them. They work tirelessly without complaint, and are some of the kindest, warmest and most genuine people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.
My family and I are fully aware of our selfishness in missing them when they return home, and while it is an ugly emotion, this form of selfishness is a result of love, if that makes any sense. Of course, we want them to go home and see their loved ones, but we also hate to see them go. Their absence is always felt once they have departed, and while it won’t be too long before their smiling faces are back, it doesn’t make saying farewell every year any easier.
Photo by Jorge Aguilar on Unsplash
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