Every year growing up we would take trips to Rugby, ND to visit my grandparents. Every year on these trips we would talk about driving out to see the family homestead where my mother, and her father before her grew up. Every year we would finish our weekend visit and drive the 2hrs home saying maybe next year we'll get out to the farm. Well, it took 34yrs, but I finally made it out to the farm. My mom, fiancee, and I made a day trip to Minot to visit my brother. On the way home we decided to drive 20 plus miles down a desolate gravel road on a near empty tank of gas. Once we went that 20 miles and arrived in the middle of nowhere, we drove a little further. It has been nearly 40 years since my mom has been to the farm and a lot of the old landmarks are landmarks no more. Finally off in the distance we spotted a rundown old farm. We thought, well, we'll give this a try and if it's not it we better head back to the main road, and maybe try again next year, which would probably turn into the next year or maybe the year after that. Driving down the mile long lane I would ask my mom, "Is this the place?" She would reply with "I don't know." As we neared the farm I would ask again, "Is this the place?" Again, her reply "Ryan, I don't know!". Closer yet I would ask, "Well?" The only response, "Ryan, shut up!" As we turned the bend and entered the yard, it all came back to her. This was the place! She pointed out the collapsed wooden box car that my Grandpa had hauled home to use as a shed. We walked past the old schoolhouse that he also hauled home for use as a farm building, and my mom used to play school as a dopey child. She pointed out the little spot in the trees where in 1963, a friendless adolescent had plans to make her shrine to the recently assassinated president. I make fun of her for that, but she just wanted to do her part and to grieve in her own way. I'm sure I would have done the same. Lastly we entered the tiny 3 room house, where she spent the first 18yrs of her life with her Uncle Casper and parents, Clements and Elizabeth. The same tiny 3 room house that my Grandpa Clem grew up in with his 6 brothers and sisters! It was an emotional experience that I will never forget. I'm so glad we finally made it out to the farm.