Old Barn, by Gordon Trabue

Old Barn, a photo by paynehollow on Flickr.

The picture above is a pen and ink drawing my father did a few years ago. Since he's retired, he's turned to art as a productive past time.

As a young man, he studied art in school and did some incredible work, including an amazing life-sized painting of Christ in the Clouds behind a baptismal pool in a Baptist church in rural Kentucky. He recently visited the church and it's still there.

Following college, life, work and raising six sons (as well as being unofficial parents, friends and mentors to dozens - hundreds - of young people) took up my parents' life, and that was time well-spent, I'm sure they'd say.

But since retiring (off and on, roughly 15 years ago), it has allowed my parents some time to travel and my father some time to draw. Mainly, pen and ink drawings like the one above.

He's drawn sketches of all the covered bridges in Kentucky and Indiana... these have been his main subject. But he's also done sketches of old barns, lighthouses and other interesting roadside views.

Dad's had Parkinson's Disease for over ten years, but it's always been a mild case and only slowed him down a little. He still was able to draw, to paint, to travel and do what he and Mom pleased.

Over the last year, they've finally had to start slowing down significantly and this has been difficult for them. The good side of it, though, is that it has pushed me to be more involved in their lives. Me, my brothers, cousins, nephews and nieces are all taking time to spend with these wonderful people and being thankful for the gift of Bill and Mary to this world.

I have long had a thing for old barns and structures that stand by slow, abandoned roads, being claimed by time and nature. I can hardly pass by fields and forests haunted by past lives and buildings without wanting to stop and investigate. Many times, the desire to get out and walk around and breathe in this common history wins out and I do just that.

In my increased time with my parents of late, I realize anew that I come by my love of nature and traveling small old roads by way of an inheritance from my Mom and Dad. Just another way they have been a blessing in my life and, I know, the lives of many others.

Thanks, Mom and Dad.