The Barn Collective

We took our brother for another ride through the Wayne County countryside this afternoon. He didn't appear to mind Rachel's stopping along the way so I could capture a few photos, but he did seem especially emotional. Perhaps it was his own memories of days gone by as I shared a few childhood happenings. I so wish he was able to share what is on his heart and in his mind. I want to know what he remembers.

We listened to Dad's music and I sang a few lines of the old songs while Tim sniffled and wiped his nose. (I'm not sure if it was my singing or an old memory that triggered the tears.)

At one point I mentioned the little creek that used to run between our neighborhood and the woods at the dead end. I have a long ago memory of Mom helping me over the water when we walked to visit a friend. I said how it was just Mom and me, and that Tim must have been out at Elim, a Christian school for the deaf near Chicago before Priscilla was born. I thought I saw him smile for a brief second, and then he was sniffling all over again.

The farms along the way made me think of Dad's Uncle Joe and the dairy farm he had near Houghton, NY. It wasn't a pretty barn, just a low-slung concrete structure to shelter a herd of milk cows. We talked of the names of Dad's cousins, Stanley, Sharon, Sheryl, Sally Sue, Keith, and Gary. They'd all seemed so very grown up to me as a little girl, and yet they were all living home and were probably still just kids themselves.

I know my brother remembers these people and places too. Their mention often triggers tears, and I'm not totally surprised. It's most often sweet, sweet memories that make me cry as well.

Come visit Tom and check out some more old barns and have a glass of tea,