It called to me as I was walking across the open expanse between the cabin (which started it's existence as a granary) and the barn.  A nondescript stone that can easily fit in the palm of my hand.  It told me that it had been there from the beginning, that it had witnessed it all. This is my first trip back to the family homestead in over 10 years.  A most perfect niche of creation situated to give an uninterrupted view of the Grand Tetons from the Idaho side.  Juxtaposed were my hellacious memories of this place which consisted of some of the sexual abuse I endured as a child.  Those absent years where spent in heavy-duty weekly therapy, and other healing practices which at long last has brought me to a place of clarity and peace.  But to return?  Never!  Yet, after all this time, here I stood looking at the barn which held the worst of those memories.  I knew that it was time to face this last fear.  To be in the phy...