Last night I went to a large farm in Omaha, famous for its fall festivities, food, and pumpkins.

My daughter and I had a couple of hours to get some one-on-one time. With her three children under two, our hours are concentrated on parenting, and being Nana.

It was a cool day that grew colder as the sun set. We ate our pulled pork sandwiches, made s’mores, and began to traipse around through all the barns on the property.

I had a chance to see, smell, or taste a lot of missed fall favorites. Fresh, hot apple cider donuts, hot cocoa, fresh pumpkin pie (made from real pumpkin!), kettle corn, caramel apples. We ran from shop to shop, filling our eyes and nostrils with the sights and scents.

As we headed for the pie barn, we decided to take a hayride out to the pumpkin patch.

A John Deere tractor pulled the wagon out through the acreage to the lit up pumpkin patch. As we bumped down the dusty dirt road, I breathed deep the smells of fresh turned soil. Manure. Distant wood smoke. The wagon pulled us through the dark, and the night sky began to light up with stars, previously hidden by the city lights.

As we came to a stop, a huge floodlight illuminated the pumpkins in the fields. Large and small, green and orange, smooth and covered in warts, I admired the varieties, and I wandered through the field, stopping to take pictures, and savoring the country experience.

After a few minutes, I got back on to the wagon. Suddenly, I had that clarion moment where I realized I was perfectly happy. My daughter and I were having a good night, and I was in the country, which I love and miss deeply. I was experiencing an Autumn night, with all the wonder that goes with it for me.

My daughter snapped a picture of me while I was in the field, and when she showed it to me, I wept happy tears.

She asked me why I was happy, and I told her it was because I realized how perfectly happy I was. In a pumpkin field. In Omaha.

She’s lost in the heavy baby season – days filled with start to finish with babies, diapers, feedings, and trying to get some sleep.

When I had young children, I was a single mom, working and going to school.

I have large swaths of time where I remember very little, if anything.

I was so busy trying to survive I didn’t get to really live.

Now I’m not working full time – I am a full time wife and Nana.

I can purpose to be grateful, to seize the day, to appreciate the little things.

In that moment last night, I was physically aware of how very blessed I am.

I wept from the joy of it.