31 Months

Thirty-one months. That's how long our succession plan took. The funny part? We didn't actually have a succession plan.

One day we woke up and realized we wanted different futures. On one hand was retirement and a well-earned golden bridge into the next chapter of life. On the other was a determination to keep the company as strong as possible for the next generation. It sounds simple enough until you realize no one ever sat down to decide what that transition was supposed to look like.

What do you do when the people you've relied on your entire life as your sounding board, your confidants, and your biggest advisors suddenly only communicate through their lawyer?

You pull your boots on and go to work. 

Looking back, the hardest part is knowing how avoidable it all was. There are entire industries built around family business succession planning. People dedicate their careers to helping families navigate these moments before they become battles. We didn't do that. We just showed up every day, worked hard, trusted each other, and assumed we'd figure it out when the time came.

As it turns out, "we'll figure it out later" isn't much of a strategy.

The result was conflict, emotional turmoil, and words that can't be unsaid. Expectations that were never spoken out loud somehow became expectations everyone else was supposed to understand. How do you meet expectations that no one ever communicated? How do you separate the actions in the fight from the people in the fight? Some days it felt like we were fighting over buried treasure, when in reality I was just fighting not to be buried.

Time has a funny way of softening sharp edges. Today we're okay. The family is okay. The business is okay. The next generation will inherit a strong company with a solid foundation, just like I did.

But surviving something like that comes with a cost, and painful lessons have always been the best teachers. Those lessons will become part of the initiation for the next generation. They'll know why things are structured the way they are, why difficult conversations need to happen early, and why retirement, death, or unexpected life changes shouldn't leave important decisions hanging in the air. My hope is that they'll never have to learn those lessons the hard way.

I'm grateful to be at the helm of Spinaca Farms, and I'm excited for where we're headed. The company is in good hands, our plate is full, and the future is bright.

I just wish we'd had a better map to get here.