Lesson from my grandfather: Dream to become a teacher

My Swedish grandfather grew up on a farm.
He was not expected to take over the farm,
that was the task of one of his other brothers.

According to my mother, my grandfather
wanted to become a teacher.

At that time compulsory education in Sweden
meant six years in elementary school.
To add to that, my grandfather took one year
at a "folkhogskola" and probably two
years at a private "Realskola".

When he was 22 his paternal grandfather died.
Following this, my greatgrandfather found
that the financial situation of the farm
and the family was disastrous.

In other words, no money for further studies
for my grandfather.

Within a year or so, my grandfather married
my grandmother. They took care of a farm
belonging to my grandmother's father.
Within the first few years of marriage they
had three children, one after the after.

My grandfather's dream of becoming a teacher
had become - a dream.

To make things even more complicated,
a few years later, fate intervened in a cruel way.
The brother who had continued the family farm,
was killed in a work-related accident.
My greatgrandfather asked my grandfather
to return to the family farm and help out.

My grandfather agreed.

He never became a teacher.

I don't think he enjoyed being a farmer.
I remember him sitting in his study,
hammering away on his typewriter,
talking on the phone, reading newspapers,
driving his car off to some political
meeting, perhaps being in charge of an auction,
helping other farmers with legal matters,
attending school board meetings.

Life's circumstances had moved him from
the dream of teaching to "doing the right thing"
of working on the family farm.
But within the confines of farm life he found
his "escape routes" and his passion in politics,
outside the farm.

That is at least how I see it.