Lost but not forgotten

I'm linking up at Lisa Jo Baker's blog today for Five Minute Friday. This is where writers join in to write on one topic. We don't worry about perfection or back tracking. Just writing for the fun of it. You are welcome to join in! Today's prompt is "lost".

I could almost hear the grain dryer as it roared like an angry lion. I could almost see my dad checking on the grain bins, or unloading a truckload of fresh picked corn into the place where the auger would take the corn up up up and dump it in the top of the grain bin.

But, all of that is lost now.

All I have are memories. 

I had a chance to go back to my old farm place this last weekend. I already knew that my house and all the out buildings were long gone. Pushed out of the way to plant and harvest more crops. 

The price of progress pushing out my memories.

I stood there with the wind tousling my hair around my face, just as it was tossing the grass around my feet. All I could see in front of me were the four grain bins, including the grain dryer that my dad used to use.

The historical marker that has marked our farm since 1949 was still standing there as proud 

as ever.

I saw an auger. Was it the one my dad used to use? I also saw an old tractor that I could have sworn was my dads. But, there is now no one to ask whether it was my dad’s or not.

Dad passed away 25 years ago, and it’s been even longer since he actually farmed the land since he had complications of Parkinsons.

The house I grew up in, the grainery, the barn, the abandoned chicken house, the pasture where we kept our horses, 

all lost. 

All long gone.

But in my vivid memories none of that will ever be forgotten, in fact as I stood there in the 

breeze,

in the stillness

in the quiet,

I think I could hear my dad working 

and I could see him standing at the bin waving a smile.

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Thanks for stopping by, friend!