there’s an old barn that i pass in my comings and goings. it has stood for many years, weathered silver, sun washed, and critter chewed.
this old barn witnessed feast and famine, marriages, births and deaths. generations labored within her walls and under her roof, while the sound of children’s laughter floated on the breeze.
one morning, i noticed part of the barn had collapsed. perhaps there had been a storm that went unnoticed by most, the old barn stood in silent evidence of the storm’s path. some supporting structure had given way, and now the old girl listed and sagged. yet she stood, as she had been well and strongly built.
over time, she withstood rains and winds… and now and then a bit would slough off. and though she bent to the strength of the storms, she was stronger…as she was still standing.
the other day i passed by, and noticed the old barn had fallen, crumpled, giving way to powers so strong that she was pulled to the earth, where all things return in the end.
that was the day you also gave way to the storms you withstood and defied for years, my boy, my son. you taught us to be strong. you taught us to love without reservation, to give freely without return. and you taught us there is always joy amid sadness.