He was one of the good guys. An honest man, a hardworking farmer, a husband, a father.
Their love story was a beautiful one. He had two daughters of his own, she had one. They met, fell in love, got married and had two sets of twin girls. Seven beautiful daughters, a lovely wife. He was blessed.
I saw their life chronicled often online, and over the years watched how humbly he counted and was grateful for each of his blessings. He never took life for granted, not when he woke up at the crack of dawn each morning to tend to his farm, and not when he arrived back home bone tired to spend time with his family. He feared God, appreciated all he was given and worked fiercely to keep all that he had, well and flourishing, for his wife, his girls.
When she shared pictures and updates about life on their Montana farm, it always brought a smile to my face. She was proud of her family, her husband, she was content, and so deeply loved. That’s something which stood out the most, how incredibly loved she was. You could tell by the adorable images which would stream down her newsfeed, her laughing commentary of whatever he was upto that day, their witty banter. He was so smitten with her, always. Then, there was how he loved his girls. He treasured them, taught them to hunt, to farm, he even pierced their ears himself. He was a remarkable dad, their hero. He was her husband and he loved her. She, and the family they had were his center, his world.
Today, all of that ended for him. He tragically lost his life while out working on his farm. She lost her husband, seven beautiful girls lost their father.
They say the good die young, and it’s true. He was truly one of the good guys.
Briana and Owen