Stories from the journey of fatherhood & brotherhood
He was often out in the barn. Our 40’ pole barn anchored an eight acre farm where dad parked his truck, organized his tools, and lived out the things he was passionate about. If that barn could talk, it would tell stories of tractors, sawdust, blood, break-ins, parties and games of kick the can under the mercury light. Growing up, this was my dad’s space. He built things there.
As I went to college, our family moved, leaving the farm, the barn and all the stories behind. My dad...