Life's Purpose

I don't know what to expect as I turn around the corner onto the homestead road. I left here at 18 so quickly I was sure I was going to see those tire marks in the dirt as I kept getting closer; no one ever comes down this road. There is a massive knot in my stomach as I turn into the driveway and see the barn, a worn-down faded building that housed animals, my teenage angst, and a million other secrets. I was extremely hesitant to come back, It had been so long and our parting words to each other were harsh and full of hate. I take a deep breath as I get out of my car. I glance over to my sister running towards me, shocked I showed up. We embraced, she told me that everyone was waiting for me in the house. I am not ready to face them; I told her to give me a few moments. I headed towards the barn and overexerted myself to pull open the thick wooden door. The building seemed to sigh in relief as it gave way and allowed me access to a place I never intended to return to again.

As I hesitantly took my first step into the barn and my eyes began to adjust to the lack of light, I saw that it had been sitting unused for quite some time. Not that that is a bad thing, this building was sketchy on its good days and a nightmare on the worst days. This farm has been in my family for generations. You can tell by the inside of this barn, every generation has left their mark somewhere in the building, and even if you hadn't seen any of the markings, the heaviness of the air would tell you instantly it’s got some history behind it. I spent my summers cutting and baling hay, listening to my uncle and my father drunkenly banter as they both took turns chastising how I was stacking hay in the loft, "this row has 15, not 18! are you stupid?' and they would both chuckle as I would struggle to move the bales around to fit those three bales in the row.

This barn is also the place where lessons would be taught. I winced at the hard-to-swallow memory as my eyes quickly scanned the area where I learned many of them. I refuse to be sucked back into that abyss of a thought train and kept focused on what I needed to do. I wasn’t sure how or why, but this barn was the cause of so much pain in my family, I am the only one to have made it off of this plot of land in over 150 years and I am the only one who can end the generational curse this barn is. All of the women took so much pride in having their babies in one of the stalls of this building and it always struck me as odd that the reasoning was that everyone needed to be humble from their first breath and they convinced themselves that this was the way to do that. I won’t mention how many family members became ill because of it and met the ultimate fate, death is a frequent visitor to farmers, but my family seems to be on the Grim Reapers speed dial.

Your death is what brought me here, dad, I say out loud, knowing full well you are probably lingering around here. I came back only to start the heavy task of convincing mom to sell this place. You got away with so much within these four walls; this was your kingdom. I walk towards your old workbench, and I grunt as I shove it over inch by inch until a discolored brick came into view. I saw your set of screwdrivers and grabbed the flathead to pry it loose. I could hear you in the back of my head screaming at me that this was not the proper use for your tools, and out of spite, I started jamming it into the wall with more force to make my point. When the brick loosened enough to be pulled out, I smiled as it revealed that you did not know everything after all.

A thick book of matches was slowly brought into view as I reached into the hole and fumbled around to get them out. I ran my fingers over the striking surface remembering the day I put these in here. I vowed that my mark on this place was to end the generational misfortune this barn always seemed to bring the inhabitants of this farm. I have been looking for my purpose since the day I turned out of the driveway; to realize my purpose is to be standing in this barn one more time. I look around, hoping one small positive memory will come crashing in and save this place, nothing comes. I know I am going to have a lot of questions to answer.

I didn’t bother putting the brick back in its place, seemed redundant, I toss it on the floor and turn to walk towards the front of the barn. To my left, there is a livestock stall with some old straw in it, perfect. I open the box of matches; I take out three of them, each match stick representing the worst of the worst memories I have tied to this foundation. I strike them all simultaneously and watch them burn for a few seconds before I toss them into the open stall which instantly erupts in flames. I close the door and head towards the house, knowing it is only a matter of minutes before the whole barn becomes engulfed in fire. As I step onto the front porch steps, it sounded like the old building was screaming as flames burst out of the walls. I stood there taking it all in as my family rushes out past me, not stopping to talk. I hear my mom in the kitchen calling the fire department in a panic even though it will be reduced to the foundation by the time they get here. I take a deep breath as the weight of the world is lifted off of my shoulders.