“Hello my old friend. You have given me children and horses and every manner of creature to care for and I have done so loyally. It’s been a Century and you will live on. I will not…at least not here. But as the next generation and the one after that rise and fall I want you to carry on and remember me. My massive timbers that held my roof and covered your people and their needs in times of War and Depression and tragedy will be put to good use. Thanks to all who saved me from machines and grinders and my unplanned conversion to dust. I did not ask to leave but they call it progress and so it appears I must. Would you still remember me on the those hot summer days and cold winter nights please?
Tell the kids who live in the bedroom upstairs about me. And tell them to envision me in that big kitchen window where so many meals have been served before the family would come out to stack hay in my loft and feed the horses Champ and Winter. Those boys earned their weight in Gold and it was my great honor to give them shelter and warmth after they had served all of you. It was quite a century. Tell Elizabeth and Robert that built me thank you. When they left I thought I was going to falter and collapse but the Colonel was so wondrous to know. His stories of the “Great War” and the great cities of Europe strengthened me and carried me all those many years. He was a great man to serve and provide for and his family was wonderful to me.
I will miss the kids playing in my loft and the hay hook and pulley and tackle that creeked and moaned as the huge stacks of Hay made their way in through the gable end door onto the deck. Those sunbeams filled with dust and heat that came in through the knot holes were tiny glimpses of God to me. And the roosters and crows and sparrows; the mice and rats and Squirrels, all the bugs and spiders and flies caught up in an eternal dance of life and death. I will miss all of it. But most of all I will miss you …home of homes. The place that gave me purpose and life and friendship. Most of all I am going to miss you my friend.
Now in the final days of my life I am encouraged and strengthened to know my wood and doors are finding new life in not just one but many homes. I will tell them all of you and these Days of Days we had. Days I wish never had to end. Thank you my friend. In the end we are all dust and for me I know we will all be mingled together soon enough. You carry on and so shall I. Adieu- and goodbye.”