(No....NOT in a barn....)
Some of you may recall a post I did last September about "Going Home." At that time, I took my mother back to her home place....the place her grandfather had built, where she had been born, the place that, when I was 3 and her father passed away, she and my father purchased, and the place where I grew up.
A few weeks ago, she asked me to take her to the "other" home place. The one that she and my father purchased and moved into when they got married....and where I was born. I couldn't say "no," even though I knew the people who owned the place now were not particularly receptive to visitors.
(My older brother and me....)
Much had changed....the house was barely recognizable to the memories of my three-year-old mind.
(There was no garage when we lived there.....)
You could no longer see the Wisconsin River which flows directly behind the house....
The iconic fuel tank was gone:
(Me, my older brother, and "Rolf.")
Only a skeleton remained of the barn....
Yet, a bit of me remains there.