I Made A Resolution

When I woke up this morning, I made a resolution.

I am never going to have another sad thought again.

When I was young, Nathan and I used to have to wake up before the sun rose. He was older than I, with longer legs, legs that were able to make it to the dairy faster. I'd run and run as fast as I could, the holes in my shoes allowing the pebbles and bits of grass and hay to stick to my threadbare socks, but he would still beat me, and he would still get to start first, finish earlier. Daddy loved Nathan more; I didn't need to be a genius to know it. Daddy would wake up before Nathan and I did, to lead the cows into the dairy from the barn, to drive his Ford around the farm to check for holes in the fences. Daddy said the last thing we needed was another wolf coming in here from Canada. Daddy also hated Canada besides just me.

When Nathan died, Daddy blamed me. I wasn't out in the fields like Nathan was. I was down at the creek, watching the ducks. It was springtime now, and the little babies were just seeing the world for the first time. I never said nothing, never let Daddy know I'd rather watch the ducks than watch Wisconsin play Northwestern. Nathan and I both knew that when Wisconsin let Northwestern get a touchdown,another beer would go missing from the six pack. No one wanted to be around Daddy then. Nathan watched anyways, sitting on the floor next to Daddy on the armchair. Except that day, Nathan told me he was gonna go play real football, with the Johnson boys down the dirt road a few miles down. He never came home. He was 3 days shy of turning 18, 6 days off of marrying Elizabeth Mead. I was 15, and 3 hours away from my next beating. Daddy didn't mean it though, just like how Travis Johnson's daddy didn't mean to run over Nathan with the tractor in the field.

Ever since then, I was the wolf on the dairy. I milked the cows, racing in the dairy, the rocks still getting inside my shoes. Ever since Nathan died, Wisconsin didn't need to lose in order for Daddy to drink. And when Daddy drank, the cows weren’t led from the barn, and there were holes in the fence. When the wolves got the cows, it was my fault. And it also meant we didn't get new shoes that Winter since there was less milk and cheese.

I thought I'd be doing Daddy proud when I told him I was moving to Madison in the Fall, going to the University he loved so much. I remember when Nathan and I were little, he would tell us about his days on Granddaddy's farm, about how he played football along the creek with the ducks and how he wanted to play for University of Wisconsin. When I told him though, he told me I was never gonna make it. Told me I wasn't on the football team. I told Daddy I wanted to be an architect, and Daddy gave me a kick in the shins. There aren't no good brains in this family, he told me. But I decided to go anyways.

Wisconsin gave me a diploma after 4 years, but they didn't give me a job. Mama told me to go back to the farm, that Daddy needed more strong hands around. Only the girls were there now, my baby sister Jennifer was fixing to marry some boy from across town, the son of a banker. I didn't do it though; Daddy hadn't talked to me since I left. I stayed in Madison over summers, working construction. Mama told me I probably had nice strong hands now. I told her they did more drawing than lifting. She told me that they were still strong enough though, to lift myself out of being a farm boy. Mama always wished she had moved to Hollywood, became an actress. But not everyone can have strength, she said. Daddy never told me I was strong. He would just say I was useless. Then again, all Daddy ever was was a farm boy.

I was never as lucky as Nathan was, either. Lizzy Mead was a beauty. She had up and moved away years before I left, but I do remember her hair. It reminded me of corn silk, but smoother, thicker too. She kept it long, even in the Summer, and liked to keep it behind her ears using a red ribbon. She was beautiful, but I only remember her from Nathan's funeral, when the ribbon was black.

My girl wasn't like Elizabeth Mead at all. She was smaller, rounder, with red cheeks and hair the color of tree bark. Her hair was shiny though, and curly. She told me wearing ribbons in it was dumb, that she just liked it hanging around her shoulders. I loved her just like Johnny Cash loved June Carter. She didn't know nothing about farms though, especially in North Wisconsin. She came from Chicago, and had a trust fund. When I was out at the creek watching the ducks, she was looking at crystal balls and telling the future. Julia always told me those damn cards could tell me the future, if I trusted her right. I never could trust her though, and she knew. She told me I couldn't love her right, either. Julia moved back to Chicago that Summer we both graduated. I remember it perfectly, that day she left. Her lips were stained red from her bottle of wine. She locked her deep eyes on me and said "Weston, what you're looking for isn't here."

I remember when Julia was looking at her tarot cards, she said the one with the waves on it were her favorite. She said it meant possibilities, that things could change. When I watched her get in her car and drive back to Chicago, I think I finally figured out what she was trying to tell me.

I never had no car, but I did know how to drive a tractor. They don't allow tractors in Madison though, so I decided to walk. The rain sounded like popcorn on the sidewalks, which made me grasp my umbrella extra tight. The rain was trying to drown me, make my head slip under the surface point, my eyes settle in pitch black loneliness. But I felt my Mama's hands on my shoulders, shaking me tight, keeping me walking. 'Shake us free, boy. Shake us free, my son."

I didn't know how, but Mama made me stop just in time. I was on a dock, the grain of the wood building traction under my shoes. It was still rickety, though. Boards were missing, boards that had probably slipped and fell into the murky waters below. I tried to stare down, see into the waves, but it was pitch black also, trying to pull me in. The rain slapping the surface reminding me to not look too deep, though. I didn't need to know what was at the bottom. I needed to know what was at the other end. Staring down, I remembered Julia's cards also said something about rain. They said that rain was supposed to clean, wash away all the dirt on the earth so things can be shiny and new. And, according to those cards, the boat rocking against this shaky dock was supposed to show travel, or moving from one place to the next. Julia always said I didn't trust her right, or love her right. Julia didn't know I hung onto every word she said.

So when I looked out over that navy lake, that huge catalyst for change, I let the rain wash me clean. I wasn't in Nathan's shadow no more, I was Nathan's legacy. I wasn't a failure, my Daddy just couldn't leave that six pack be. I wasn't destined to be a farm boy, I was an architect. And I listened to my Mama, I let that rain shake me free.

I made that resolution, and I never plan on letting it go. That will be Nathan's legacy.