Today I'll Remember

“The living owe it to those who no longer can speak to tell their story for them.”  ~Czeslaw Milosz

Five years ago today, Mr. Franklin lost his battle with ALS.

As I've watched all of the ice bucket challenges on Facebook--some of you people (ahem...Mr.and Mrs. Lee....) are quite creative with those--my mind always turned to him.

But the truth is, we can dump all of the ice that we want but awareness--true awareness--of this disease, unfortunately, can only be gained by watching someone you love go through it.  It is an awareness I would wish on no one.  Ever.

Today, however, I refuse to think of disease or death or sadness.  Instead, I will think only of good memories of one of my favorite people.

I will think of chicken gizzards and ass kickin' peanuts.  Forcing me to swallow the green Mexican pills that he was sure would cure food poisoning and him lining up the entire basketball team and making everyone drink an Alka Seltzer.

I remember sideways glances about jokes only he and I understood.  His uncanny ability to remember even the smallest details about every show animal anyone ever had.  Ducking chalk he sent flying when someone missed a parli pro question.  I'll remember him chasing us up the hill with scissors and paging people to the golf cart at his last sheep sale.

I'll remember that the man who would lecture me for an hour about not finishing my orange juice or who would make the boys run until they puked in practice was the same man that would get tears in his eyes and a quivering lip anytime you won a contest or said goodbye to leave for college.   He may have had a loud bark, but his heart was bigger. 

And even five years later, I still miss him every single day.

Girl Between the Lines: Most Valuable Advice Someone Gave You

Today I am doing something a bit difference and joining a link up called "Getting to know the girl between the lines."  Each Wednesday they have a new prompt for people to write about.  This week's prompt is:  "What is the most valuable advice someone gave you?"

Well, in my typical fashion, I couldn't pick one thing.  So I picked four.  But I'm combining two of them into one topic, so it's really like three, which is basically like one, so there ya go.

Work hard.
The very first thing that always pops into my head when I hear a question like this is a comment that my dad made to me while we were at the show barn and I was about 14.  No doubt I was whining about my friends being at the lake or at the movies or whatever fun thing that "normal" kids did, while we were, again, spending 3 hours at the barn walking pigs and working lambs.  My dad said, "Tiffany, we may get beat, but we'll never get outworked."  A similar piece of advice on this topic came from one of my favorite people, my ag teacher, a couple of years later when he went on a rant at a judging contest where some of the girls apparently were more interested in other things.  He said, "Girls, you can't go around in a short skirt with poofy hair thinking everything is going to work out.  Sometimes you have to put pants on, pull your hair back, and get to work!"  Even now, more than a decade later, I try and live my life in accordance with these ideas.

 Finding God.
I distinctly remember a conversation with my mother about how some of our friends went to different churches than we did.  My mom said something that I've always remembered.  "You can find God in a lot of different churches."  I think that this comment has probably shaped my faith (and probably many of my friendships) more than any other statement ever has.  I am a firm believer that God is in many different churches, and whether you can feel him in one where you quietly pray on a kneeler or one where people yell and scream and flail their arms about while they are singing Amazing Grace, the point is that you're seeking him, and that you find the best place for you to feel him.

Relationship advice.
Long before I was in a serious relationship, I heard one of my best friends make a comment that I have always remembered and that I think was a seed of wisdom that I might not have understood at 21, but that I certainly understand and agree with now.  At SoulMate Friend's bridal shower, someone asked her what she loved the most about her husband.  She responded simply, "He's everything that I'm not."  When I was younger, I thought I needed someone exactly like me.  Someone who was loud and outgoing and Type-A and anal and whatever other adjectives you can come up with.  But what SoulMate Friend knew, and I've come to realize, is that maybe what we needed was someone who was quite different, but who could balance us out.  It has worked out for her and her sweet husband, Tuba Man, for sure and was something that I often think about The Boy from Texas.

The Mr. Franklin I Knew

"It has been said, time heals all wounds.  I do not agree.  The wounds remain.  In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens.  But it is never gone."  ~Rose Kennedy

I remember when Mr. Franklin died four years ago this weekend, everyone kept saying that he would be mad at me for crying and would tell us all to toughen up.  And every single time I heard those words, I just shook my head and suppressed my desire to tell them that I thought they were completely wrong.

Because that wasn't the Mr. Franklin I knew. 

Sure, that was the Mr. Franklin that most people saw.  The one who beat the steering wheel and wouldn't let us eat lunch after a certain class of keep/cull pigs was placed a certain way at a certain judging contest (which was still won, for the record).  It was the Mr. Franklin who would grab a player off the bench and literally throw them to the scorer's table when someone on the court missed a lay up.  It was the Mr. Franklin who could hardly speak anymore but managed to get mad at me the week before he died because I wasn't texting sheep show results fast enough for his liking (we were on a lunch break and nothing was happening!)  The one who would yell at Mrs. Franklin when she couldn't remember the name of the point guard at Texas Tech to help him while he was telling a story.  It was the Mr. Franklin who would crank up the heater for basketball practice in the gym and line up the entire team with a cup to make them drink Alka-Seltzer if one person sneezed and he thought there was a chance anyone was getting sick and beat you with a sorting stick or a clipboard if you put the fat hog first after he told you not to do that anymore. 

But that wasn't the Mr. Franklin I knew.  The one who hugged me with tears running down his face at my Gran's funeral.  The one who dropped me at the airport at Louisville and waited until he could wave at me after I made it through security.  The one whose lower lip would start to quiver when a State Star Farmer plaque was presented or a basketball trophy came home to Logan or he got a gift at the FFA banquet.  The one who stopped showing sheep one afternoon to come over and tell me that I had no idea how much he missed me after I went to college.  The one who called me every hour on the hour for an entire night when I had food poisoning and then drove me to the hospital the next week when I was still not better.  The one who kissed me on the cheek and told me he loved me every time I said goodbye and left his house.  That was the Mr. Franklin I knew.

So if you ask me, those people were wrong about how he would have reacted to my tears.  The Mr. Franklin I knew would have put his arm around me and let me cry.  Then when I was done, he probably would have lectured me one more time about how badly we screwed up that keep/cull class at State FFA in 1999.  And I would love every minute of it.

Thursday Before State Fair

"We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about everyday, too many new things we have to learn. But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.” ~  Haruki Murakami

The Thursday before State Fair always brings back good memories for me.  I never paid any attention in school that day.  (Sorry, Mrs. Franklin, don't be mad!)  I was too excited and too busy doing mental checks of whether we remembered to pack the sleeping bags and the electrolytes and the lucky can of Revive.

The State Fair was probably my favorite week of the year.  There were the cool early morning feedings and analyzing weights with Mr. Franklin and street dances in front of Tingley and camping in the back corner of the dorms.  There were friends to see and boys to hold hands with on the dorm steps and sheep to be showed.  We won buckles and earned sale holes and I made my craziest showing dream come true and my Dad sported his "lucky shirt" even after it was covered in holes.  There were crockpots full of Posole, red cups full of beverages, and little boys full of Tom Thumb donuts.  We ate ice cream before the sale with The Little Blonde Boy and smothered burritos at Taco Hut with Mr. Franklin and Uncle David insisted that if we'd eat the veggies at the Teriyaki Chicken Bowl we wouldn't go home sick.  We snuck onto the floor for concerts, stole signs off of the top of Tingley, and always went one restaurant past Steak in the Rough, which was our official boundary (because bad things happened on the Midway).  It was on those grounds that I learned Mother Theresa had died, that Princess Diana had been in a crash, and that the Twin Towers had been attacked.  And it was there where I made some of my best friends and favorite memories.

It's amazing that one place--somewhere I spent only 1/52 of my year--holds so many memories.  But it does.  And that's why I go back every year.  There's something about that place--the people--the sounds--the smells.  But mostly, there's something about the memories.

What I'm Loving Wednesday

It's Wednesday.  I'm loving stuff.  You know the drill.

1.  I read this quote on The Single Woman's blog and loved it.  "If you really want to find the right one, let go of the jerks and the bad boys and start looking for men you would want to rock it with at Cracker Barrel when you are 80."  There's nothing like a good old people love story.  Or Cracker Barrel, for that matter.  I'm in.

2.  The professional pictures came in from BFF's wedding and I absolutely love this one of me and BFF eating pie during the reception.  I love that kid.

3.  Last weekend I went to take reasons at a FFA judging contest.  It was like a flashback to the good ol' days and I really enjoyed it. My favorite part was when someone referred to me as "one of Mr. Franklin's kids."  Best compliment that someone could give me.  I sure do miss him.

4.  This year was the first time that a kid took one of our lambs to Houston, and he made the sale.  We were pretty excited for him.

5.  The idea behind this blog that God wants us to fail at something.  My favorite part?  "Be more interested in my vision for you than in your dreams for yourself.  It may not look the way you think it should, and you might stumble and trip along this path.  You may fail in the eyes of men, but not in mine.  I will accomplish my purposes in you."

6.  This idea.  Made me want to build my own blanket fort.  I don't know if that would be on the "staged house" approved list from my realtor...

7.  Loud Oklahoma Girl and I are now on Week 6 of our half marathon training plan.....which means that come Saturday, we are halfway there!  On Monday night I got in a really good 6 mile run, which I needed after slacking a bit this weekend.

Us at the Tulsa Marathon doing the Marathon Relay - 2012

8.  I'm torn on whether I should be loving this or horribly offended, but yesterday I was in the elevator with a creepy guy who looked over at me and said, "Nice a**."  I said, "Excuse me??"  He just nodded and got out of the elevator.  Part of me was offended and wanted to punch him in the face.  The other part of me just wants to wear this skirt every day from now on.  Ha!

9.  The Word on Fire updates from Rome.  ND Friend works at Word on Fire and I'm seriously loving the updates that Father Barron is sending back from Rome regarding the Papal Conclave.  He keeps talking about Cardinal Dolan (who we all know I love) being a potential Pope......I hope he's not just giving me false hope!

10.  The fact that these showed up at my office yesterday.  On a random Tuesday.  For no reason. From a boy.  Other than Uncle Black Belt or BFF.  Yea.  I think that might be the first time that has ever happened.  And I like it.

My Dream Dinner Party List

“Surround yourself with the dreamers and the doers, the believers and thinkers, but most of all, surround yourself with those who see the greatness within you, even when you don’t see it yourself.” ~ Edmund Lee 

I've been working on a Dream Dinner Party List for a while now.  This shouldn't surprise anyone.  You already know I love lists....bucket lists, 30 by 30 lists....you name it.  So I heard about this idea that you make a list of the 10 people who you would invite to your dream dinner party.  You know that I couldn't pass this one up.  Here they are, in random order.  I may have gone over the number limit.....whatever, it's my dream dinner party!

Cardinal Timothy Dolan.  This was the name that I revealed last week in a Friday Letter.  I love Cardinal Dolan.  ND Friend has met him in person, and when I think about what I would do if that happened, I honestly believe I would either faint or throw up on his shoes I would be so nervous and excited.  I absolutely love the way that he represents Christianity and Jesus and at the same time seems genuinely happy and funny and full of joy. 

My grandfathers.  Both of my grandfathers died before I was born.  But I can only imagine the kind of men that they must have been based on the children they raised--my parents, aunts and uncles. 

Both sets of grandparents on their wedding days

George Strait.  Pretty sure he's on the list of every girl who has ever ridden a horse or listened to country music.  I can only hope that he would be awesome enough to say, "Sure is good" just like he did on Pure Country, while eating a piece of bacon.  My life would be complete.

Bob Goff.  You guys have read before about how much I love this guy.  He's someone who is out there doing the good that needs to be done in the world.  He's crazy enough to believe that he can make a difference, and he does it.  I think he's the perfect dinner party guest.

Pope John Paul II.  My love for Pope John Paul II started when I was in high school "helping" one of the Hepburns with his book report on the Pope.   I remember being really upset and felling like I knew him when he passed away, and the amazing site that it was seeing his tomb at St. Peter's Bascilica in Rome. He just seemed to be so kind and caring and generous and such a great example of loving others.

Michael Jordan.  I know he's a has-been, but listen here, my 10 year old self will always love MJ and the rest of the Chicago Bulls.  He's a legend, and anyone who wants to try and and compare him wiht Kobe or LeBron can just jump in a lake.

Coach Gundy.  So I could ask him for a job.  Obviously.  Plus, he's super hot.  And he's a man.  He's 40.

 Gran and Mr. Franklin.  I was talking last week about how along with my parents, these two people had the biggest influence on my life.  I miss them every single day and think all the time about how I wish I could tell them one more thing or as them one more question.  Add to that that they were two of my favorite people in the entire world, and it is clear they were going to make the list.

Michael Phelps.   Yea yea, I know that he takes stupid pictures and apparently has a bit of a drug problem and I'm sure he's not much of a gentleman when it comes to his love life, but he's the most decorated Olympian ever. That gets you a seat at my party.

Mr. Right.  Apparently me finding this dude in real life is more complicated than I ever thought it would be, but if he showed up at my Dream Dinner Party, I would then be aware of his identity and could go track him down the next day!

Little Cowboy.  Because seriously, I think he's the funniest kid that has ever lived and the thought of seeing him go toe to toe with Bob Goff or Cardinal Dolan pretty much makes my day.

Now it's your turn.....who is on YOUR Dream Dinner Party List?

Family Farm Friday #78: Happy National FFA Week!

"Her daddy was a farmer, like his daddy was before...."  ~Josh Abott Band, Small Town Family Dream

It's National FFA Week!  I have really been enjoying all of the flashback pictures on facebook that people have posted of their FFA days.  You know I had to join in the fun.

Our first State Championship.

My first purple banner.

I suppose that FFA was in my blood, as evidenced below.

My Dad was in FFA in the 1970s.

My Granddad was an FFA member in the 1940s.

I've been involved in lots of different activities from sports teams to legal clubs to honor society to church groups, and I can say without a doubt in my mind that none have had a bigger impact on my life than my experience in FFA.  From countless sets of reasons in a hotel room, to Mr. Franklin beating the steering wheel and yelling at us for being idiots the year we won State Livestock, to green chile cheeseburgers at Dicks, to "The Speech" behind the suburbans at Hobbs, to ass kicking peanuts in the suburban if you missed a question, to State Fair street dances, to learning the difference between a sink hole and a gully, to hugging my dad after winning the county fair the third year in a row, to Mr. Franklin crying anytime we won...some of my favorite memories involve FFA.

I feel that no matter how many blogs I write about things like puking my way across Kentucky or remembering the State Fair or our first show lamb sale, or looking back on the speeches given, or trips to National FFA Convention, or my first set of reasons, I still can't put into words how much I appreciate this organization and the memories that it gave me.  I count the chance to have been a part of the FFA as one of my biggest blessings.  Happy National FFA Week!

Throwback Thursday #60: National FFA Conventions

“Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories I value most, I don’t ever see them fading.”  ~   Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go

It's National FFA Convention week.  Reading all of the facebook statuses about people headed to convention took me back to my high school days and our multiple trips to Louisville.

It makes me think back....

 



To holding (or letting go of) 16 pound nasty live chickens on a farm in Indiana.  To food poisoning and alka seltzer.   From Red Roof Inns to irrigation boots covered in crap from every dairy between Logan and the airport.  To games of spades and dead chickens hanging from the rod in the shower.  From studying for tests to almost getting arrested for taking an egg candler through airport security a month after 9/11.  From haunted house boats to smuggling home stolen milemarkers to watching warm ups at Churchill Downs.  To trinkets stolen by Dr. Wagley and tears from Mr. Franklin at awards breakfasts and when dropping me off at the airport.  There were linear scores and slaughter cattle grading and breakeven scenarios and chicken thighs.

Fourteen years, four gold medals and countless memories later, I'd give just about anything to live those days again.  Monster scary chickens and all.

Friday Book Club (August and September)

Well, sometimes you win and sometimes you lose on a year-long goal.  This month, I lost....didn't get my 2 books a month read in August and September.  I'm still confident that I can knock out 24 books this year...hopefully!  Anyway, the three books I did read were great.  Here's the scoop, linking up for Book Club Friday!

A Lucky Child by Thomas Buergenthal

 I'm apparently on a World War II kick lately (remember Every Man Dies Alone?) with my reading.  Well this time it was A Lucky Child and I can't recommend this book high enough.  I couldn't put it down.  What's most amazing about it is that it's a true story.  You see Auschwitz and Sachenhausen and the horror of the Holocaust through the eyes of a 9 year old child.  His description of what he saw and experienced is heartwrenching.  You see the horror of the Nazi regime as it faced this child who was put through hell merely because his family was Jewish.  In the camps he was separated from his family.  He lost his grandparents, father, and many friends.  He was separated from his mother for years, before she finally found him in a Polish orphanage.  He watched his adopted siblings be hauled away and killed.  He heard the screams from the Auschwitz crematoriums.  He participated in the Auschwitz death march.  He saw people beaten, shot and hung before his eyes.  His story is unbelievable, except that it really happened.  There is no way that he should have survived these camps, but he did and he has spent his life working for international human rights.  He believes that doing so is his duty after seeing, and experiencing, what he did.

"It remains a part of me and seves as a reminder, not so much of my past, but of the obligation I deem incumbent on me, as a witness and survivor of Auschwitz, to fight the ideologies of hate and of racial and religious superiority that have for centuries caused so much suffering to mankind."

"It took a long time for me to realize that one cannot hope to protect mankind from crimes such as those that were visited upon us unless one sturggles to break the cycle of hatred and violence that invariably leads to ever more suffering by innocent human beings."

"I doubt that we would have been able to preserve our sanity had we remained consumed by hatred for the rest of our lives.  Many of our relatives and friends in America never understood what we meant when we tried to explain that, while it was important not to forget what happened to us in hte Holocaust, it was equally important not to hold hte descendants of hte perpetrators responsible for what was done to us, lest the cycle of hate and violence never end."

"This sense of obligation had its source in the belief, which grew stronger as the years passed, that those of us who survived the Holocaust owe it to those who perished in it to try to improve, each in our own way, the lives of others."



Morrie:  In His Own Words by Morrie Schwartz

You guys probably remember how much I loved Tuesdays with Morrie.  Well this book is a collection of little thoughts by Morrie himself.  He talks about living and dying and provides great advice on how to do both.  In the book, Morrie told the story of a young man, whose father died of ALS.  The young man told Morrie that his father had not talked much of his disease or fellings, but that by reading Morrie's story, he felt like he was hearing some of his father's secret thoughts.  I guess the reason I enjoyed this book (along with Tuesdays with Morrie and The Luckiest Man) is pretty much the same thing.  While I spent a lot of time with Mr. Franklin while he was going through ALS, we did not talk about his disease and I've often wondered how he felt or what he thought.  I think that Morrie's story gave me some insight that I needed to have.

"Be grateful you have been given the time to learn how to die."

"Maybe the distance between life and death isn't as great as you think."

I Was Told There'd Be Cake by Sloane Crosley

This book was given to me by my friend Nomad because he said the author reminded him of me.  I can tell you that I'm not even close to as clever as Sloane Crosley.  Holy cow.  This book is hilarious.  It's sort of a collection of essays and stories from her life.  I think that if I ever make my dream of writing a book come true, I might set it up like this.  There are stories about boyfriends giving her plastic ponies (yes, I have one too!), her being a Jewish girl playing the Virgin Mary at a church camp paegent, being a bridesmaid to someone she hardly ever spoke to, dating woes, her crazy family.  This book is an easy read and really, really funny.  Here is my favorite quote:

"Weddings are like the triathalon of female friendship:  the Shower, the Bachelorette Party, and the Main Event.  It's the Iron Woman and most people never make it through.  They fall off their bikes or choke on ocean water."



No Idea How Much We Miss You

“I guess by now I should know enough about loss to realize that you never really stop missing someone-you just learn to live around the huge gaping hole of their absence.”  ~ Alyson Noel, Evermore

Three years ago tomorrow, my world changed when we lost Mr. Franklin.  Each year since then, I've written about him on that day.  About how there are some questions for which no answers exist and about how he always looks over my shoulder. 

So when this year rolled around, I started thinking about some of my favorite Mr. Franklin moments.  You've read about a lot of the big ones.  The first lamb sale.  Chasing me with scissors.  The golf cart page at the last lamb sale.  The food poisoning ordeal. 

But there are some smaller moments that were just as good.  I thought that today I'd share three of those moments--one for each year that he's been gone. 

1.  My junior year, we had the FFA banquet at night.  My friend KP burned a cd to play while everyone was eating.  So immediately after the prayer, KP runs over and presses play on the cd player.  And over the loud speaker, you hear the unmistakeable crack of a beer can openining.  Out blasts, "Pop a top, again."  You've never seen a little man move as fast as Mr. Franklin did going to push "skip" on that cd player.  Poor KP never got to dj again.

2.  Mr. Franklin took some strange pride in driving the oldest, most beat up, crappiest school vehicle that you can imagine.  We'd leave the brand new, shiny suburban in the barn and leave town in a 1970's model station wagon.  So the day we rolled up to District Judging in the brand new Ford Excursion, several ag teachers came over to see what the heck was going on.  They asked how he got to drive something like this.  He answered, "This is what happens when you sleep with the superintendent, boys."  (Just to be clear, Mrs. Franklin was the superintendent.)

3.  It was the spring of my freshman year of college, and I was home for a weekend.  We were looking at lambs in the first pen under the lamb barn at Mr. Franklin's house.  I was sitting on a bucket while everyone looked at lambs and shot the breeze.  Mr. Franklin walked over and kicked the bucket, and knocked me off.  Then he helped me off the ground, hugged me with tears in his eyes and said, "You have no idea how much we miss you." 

Ditto.  That pretty much sums up the way I feel today.

Family Farm Friday #70: Roses in December

"God gave us memories that we might have roses in December." ~J.M. Barrie


Well, ladies and gentlemen, another sheep sale weekend is upon us. For those of you who are new followers since last year, each April we sell show lambs to 4-H and FFA kids to show at the fairs in the fall. That means I'll be sneaking out of work early and road tripping it home for lots of sheep showing over the next 48 hours! So far, I think that we have made it through the pre-sheep sale without a single screaming fight and no physical violence....can this be true?!


The last two years, I've written blogs commemorating my favorite memories of sheep sale weekend. So....you can read about my first sheep sale with Mr. Franklin and you can read about my last sheep sale with Mr. Franklin.

Although I love the sale every year--the time with my family and getting to catch up with all the show family and getting to see how all of the lambs look--the sales will never be the same again. The little man in the green dairy judging jacket and floppy eared hat left a hole too big to fill.

And so this weekend, we'll go on with the sheep sale. Ever cognizant of what is missing......today and every day. Ever thankful for the time we did have with him. And ever grateful to have roses in our December.

Family Farm Friday #69: Expenses

"Some folks just don't get it. They think owning cattle makes no sense. It takes too much time, too much equipment, not to mention the expense. But the fondest memories of my life-they might sound funny-were made possible by Mom and Dad, 'cause they spent the time and spent the money. You see, the most important lessons helping values grow so strong, come from loving cattle and passing that tradition on."

I distinctly remember being in the 11th grade and standing in the hall in the Corbett building getting ready to go in and give my speech at the State FFA public speaking contest. Mr. Franklin was drilling me with last minute questions and he asked something about why people keep farming. He didn't like my answer, and said, "Tiffany, why do you really think your parents have the ranch? It's because of you and Little Brother--they have it for the way of life and the ability to spend time together as a family." That man always knew more than me.

My Dad always knows more than me too. I remember one night in high school we were all over at the show barn working with the show animals. As I recall, it had been a particularly rough night---everyone was tired, sheep were not showing well, pigs weighed too much, I'm sure Little Brother was swinging a rope when he shouldn't have been. Somehow, the conversation turned to all the time that we spent at the show barn. My Dad said, "When you kids look back, you may remember all the fights we've had, how dumb you think your parents are, how much work we've done here at this barn, but the main thing is that you will remember that your mom and I were HERE with you kids."
When my friend Pharmer Girl shared the picture below on her blog last week, I knew right away that I had to blog about it. I could not agree more, particularly with the line, "the fondest memories of my life were made possible by Mom and Dad 'cause they spent the time and spent the money."

It's expensive to have a farm. Land, livestock, seed, fuel, equipment, medicines, feed (especially when it does not rain).....that all adds up. Usually to more than the income column. And it's not just expensive monetarially, but time-wise as well. My parents never went on "date nights." They never went on fancy vacations. They weren't members of the country club. They invested their time--themselves--in our farm, and in doing so, in our family. If you ask me, that's the best expense that one can incur.
And the investments made and benefits that I recieved go beyond just parents.

It's grandmas. I can't tell you the hours that Little Brother, Gran and I spent driving around checking cows. Both of us kids learned to drive in that old tan Datsun and little blue Ranger, which Gran didn't need, but I suspect kept just for those driving lessons. We learned to peel an apple without breaking the skin, where the best windmill water was located, and how to watch for snakes curled up next to the fence post when you open a gate. We learned, because she invested.
And it's neighbors as well. People who made you homeade bread at Christmas, who bought any random item that we were selling as fundraisers, who showed up with enchillada casseroles when bad news cam, who helped you find rocks for your science homework, who always complained, "Well I wish y'all wouldn't run off so soon" even when you had been at their house for two hours and eaten your weight in Aunt Jean candies and cherry cheesecake. It's ag teachers and the "show family." The people who would shear the finewool sheep, bring snacks to the show box, and spend weeks driving all over creation to find the lamb to win the banner--and then smack you on the back with tears in his eyes when it worked out as planned. The expenses these people--parents, grandmas, neighbors, ag teachers, family friends--incurred and the time that they spent mean more to me than they will ever know.

It's probably true that you can't put a price on fond memories. But I have a sneaking suspicion that if you could, it might look a lot like those farm leger books that we keep in the file cabinet.