The location of a proposed personal and RV storage project off Airport Road, the third storage project heard by the Planning Commission in as many months.
If I’ve learned anything in the five plus years since losing Fred, it’s been how to get along better with my adult daughter. From my side, I’ve learned that there are non reactive ways to say or ask things. We work together at the ranch, so getting along requires work on both sides. I can’t bark orders or treat her like a child.
I make sure that she is aware of everything going on at the ranch even if I’m in charge of handling it. I always try to involve her in meetings and decision making. Her opinions mean a great deal to me, so I try to find consensus between us before moving forward on projects. I hand off projects and segments of our operations that she’s ready and willing to run.
As for communicating in non reactive ways, instead of railing about messes I may find on the ranch, now I just thank her for all she’s accomplished and ask how I can help her pull things back together. If she declines my offer of help, I just remind her that I’m here to help her if she needs me, and then I walk away without additional comment. If she’s had a frustrating day, I give her space and just listen if she needs an ear. If the day has been so rough that she needs to have a good cry, I remind her of all the good she does and it’s okay to cry and let those emotions out. I also give her honest positive feedback daily. That means that I must stay engaged and know what she’s been working on (by watching or listening) and asking questions.
I don’t remind her of “to do’s” every hour or everyday, I give her the time and space to schedule those projects herself, and only remind her if we get close to a deadline (and then, it’s usually by asking if she might need a little help with the task). Even then, I ask “what help” she might need so that she can just rattle off items rather than fell “less than” for needing help.
No, I’m not Mother Theresa, I’m just an old gal who wants and works hard for a great relationship with her kid. I’m fortunate that she wants the same with me. She’s become so thoughtful and kind in ways I never saw when she was a teenager. I’ll always be grateful that she had her dad during those years when nothing but taking very long rides out in the sagebrush and getting a lot of saddle pads wet could insure a civil tongue in her pretty mouth. He was content to take those rides and separate us when necessary. He always told me, “just you wait and see, you are gonna start getting a lot smarter once Patrice gets out of her teens”. I was certain that she just liked him better (and maybe she did), but I worried that she may not ever really like me. I think one big change between us is that all the walls between us have come down since Fred died. She’s seen me sob, cuss, get bloodied up and quite literally fall down trying to keep going. She’s watched me struggle and pray to God for strength. She’s seen every bit of me and she’s sidled up next to me and been the strong one when I couldn’t. Out of pure desperation and necessity, we’ve become partners.
Today, I feel so happy that she wants to live and work with me. I know that at some point she will meet Mr Right and they’ll embark on a life of their own. I’m just hoping that the groundwork we lay today in terms of communicating with kindness and understanding will be the basis for me being able to live somewhere close to her and always be a part of her life.
Kris Stewart is a rancher with an amazing rancher daughter in Paradise Valley, Nevada.