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The reaction to the condition of your heart.

Saturday, September 14, 2013

On the Farm


As I drove into my Grandfather's drive way, I began to remember special times on the farm.  How strange it seemed to be at the house again under different circumstances.  The house was still there, the yard was still there, the sheds were still there, but many things were missing.  As I looked up where the old white barn used to be, I felt a slight pain in my heart.  It was now a wide open space that sat upon a hill (which seemed a lot smaller now).  I began to remember childhood times of sledding down the hill after winter storms.  I looked back up to the empty space and memories flooded my mind of running up and down the stairs in the barn and playing hide and seek with my brother.  I thought about the old blue classic car that my grandfather used to keep stored in the barn.  I remember how he told us not to play in it but my brother and I would lift the cover and climb in it.  I remember the old fashioned seat belts and how I could never work them.  

I then began to walk around the bottom of the hill.  I looked beyond where the old barn used to be, which now consisted of housing developments with numerous houses, that all looked the exact same.  I remembered back upon the times of sitting behind the grain silos.  I remember picking flowers behind the silos and singing.  Oh how I would always sing on that farm.  I even would sit in the silos and scream to hear the echo of my voice.  I remembered sitting upon the rolling hills and praying my first prayers.  I remember one specific time when I was about 6-7 years old, I was sitting upon a hill on the farm and I prayed to God "If You exist God, If You are out there, give me a sign."  Immediately everything went silent.  It was like sound and time itself had stopped on that small hill.  Then all of a sudden the birds started chirping and the bugs started buzzing again.  I knew then that God existed and that He had spoken to me through silence.  

I then began to walk down to the creek.  It used to be a creek with only a dirt path.  Now it consisted of a wide cement trail.  I walked down to where the creek ran and I began to remember a time when my brother and I were playing in the creek.  I was wearing pink satin shoes and my brother was standing on the edge of the water.  I was close to the edge and I believe he pushed me in and my pink satin shoes got wet.  I cried and he laughed.  As I remembered this, I began to laugh out loud.  Brothers will be brothers I thought.  I then walked a little further up the creek and thought as looking upon it, that the creek hadn't changed that much.  Only the surroundings around the creek had changed, not the actual creek itself.  As I began to walk more, I saw a hole in the ground which was probably made by a small snake.  I then began to remember another memory of walking upon the creek as a child.  I was walking up the edge of the water and a snake came right past my foot! I remembered how scared I was and how I ran screaming back to the house to tell my grandma and grandpa.  Which, they did not believe me.  

I then headed back to the cement path and began to walk upon the old farm, which was only a farm in memories.  As I walked I began to look upon the houses that now where residing on the old farm.  I saw a married couple building their deck.  I thought to myself... "We were the first.  You don't know the history behind your land.  There is history.  This was my grandpa's farm.  His father lived here.  Grandpa was born in that house."  I then walked down the path for about 15 minutes and then decided to turn back towards the house.  I walked past the couple building the deck and the man said "hello."  I began to cry and I just waved hello to him as I pulled my sunglasses over my eyes.  I then walked back towards the house.

As I approached the house, I looked to my left and the old rhubarb plants where still growing with the wild flowers, that also consisted of unseen poison ivy.  I remembered how great my grandmother's rhubarb pies were, how I missed those pies.  I then walked around the house and leaned against the house.  I was remembering the times that my grandpa and grandma would sit on their lawn chairs and just look out upon the farm.  There usually consisted of grapes that where just picked right by where the chairs were set up, lemonade or tea, and small sandwiches.  I then walked toward the front of the house and remembered where all of our pets were buried.  I bet there were maybe 50 animals out there that consisted of my grandparents time, my mother's time, and our time.  I then remembered our old dog who got hit by a motorcycle as we were walking down the old country road.  I remembered crying and having to carry the dog back and burry it with my mother and my brother.  

I then turned toward the mailbox and thought "I wonder if there is mail?"  I did not check because I thought... "Who would I give it to?" As I walked back to my car, tears began to fall as I remembered all of these wonderful memories.  I leaned against my back bumper on my car and took one last look upon the old farm house.  "So many memories, so much love."  Light began to pour down upon the house.  "Yes, the house was empty but my heart will always remain full."  I took a photo of the house and said my goodbyes.  

I then got into my car and pulled around.  I took one last look at the old farm house.  I looked in the old kitchen window as I sat there stopped in the driveway.  I was remembering all the times of visiting my grandfather.  As I would drive away, every time he would stand in that old kitchen window and wave goodbye.  My mother always said he was checking on us wearing our seat belts.  I never believed that. I think he never wanted us leaving and was holding onto the last look upon us.  As I looked into that old kitchen window, somehow I expected to see Grandpa standing and waving to me.  I did not.  The house was empty and the memories remain.  

How much history is still upon that house, the land, and that open space upon that small hill.  


    my Grandpa's old farm house

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