There’s something about country life that sticks with you, no matter where life takes you. Lately, I’ve been missing it more than ever. Sometimes, I catch myself wishing my kids could have grown up the way I did—running wild under open skies, staying out all night, and getting into the kind of trouble that leaves you with stories to tell and a smile on your face years later. It was good trouble. The kind you laugh about around a kitchen table, reliving every mischievous moment with a twinkle in your eye.
I miss the simple joys of country living—pond hopping, riding horses, and feeling the rhythm of life move a little slower. After an injury, my husband jokingly asked how I’d ever ride horses again. But honestly, it got me thinking: How will I? It’s not just about the physical act of riding; it’s about the freedom, the connection to the land, and the sense of adventure that came with it.
I miss the bonfires, too. There was something magical about sitting in front of a crackling fire for hours, lost in thought, staring into the flames as if they held the answers to life’s biggest questions. And the stars—oh, the stars! Out in the country, the night sky was a canvas of endless possibilities, untouched by city lights.
Oddly enough, I even miss the fights. Not the kind you see in the city, where tensions run high and things can escalate quickly. No, our fights were different. They were raw, sure, but they usually ended with a handshake or a nod of respect. A few punches, some wrestling moves, and it was over. There was a strange kind of honesty in those moments that I don’t see much anymore.
Growing up, guns were tools, not weapons. They were for hunting, protecting livestock, or putting an animal out of its misery when a vet was hours away. It was a different time, a different way of life. These days, some of my old friends talk about needing guns for protection, though most have never been in a situation where they’ve had to use them. It’s a shift that leaves me wondering how much has changed—and not always for the better.
But what I miss most is the way families held together in the country. Sure, we fought, but it was different. We always came back together, especially during the holidays, setting aside our differences to share a meal and a laugh. In the city, life moves so fast that it feels like families barely have time to breathe, let alone connect. The pace of modern life can be exhausting, and I worry that something precious is being lost in the rush.
Still, I’m grateful for the perspective I’ve gained. I’ve seen all corners of Oklahoma—from the quiet farmlands to the bustling city streets—and while I appreciate the opportunities the city has given me, my heart always circles back to the country. It’s where I learned the value of hard work, the beauty of simplicity, and the importance of community.
So here’s to the country life—the bonfires, the stars, the good trouble, and the memories that still make me smile. It may not be the life I’m living now, but it’s the one that shaped me, and it’s a part of me I’ll always carry with me, no matter where I go.
