sometimes you just have to look

there are days when i am so overwhelmed by the structure and finiteness of time that i can barely function. i feel the world pressing in on me, watching my daughter grow and change into a human being instead of a snuggle bunny. i think of my dad, who at my age, was just entering the last 10 years of his life. i think of all the events that have happened unnoticed and uncelebrated although they were monumental in their time for those people. i think of all the hidden stories. the hidden moments. the hidden heartbreaks, joys, and secrets of my ancestors that i will never know and never experience. i think that my daughter and granddaughters and great-granddaughters (girls run in the family) will never know the smells i love, the colors that make my heart soar, the pet peeves, and allergies. and it all becomes too much.

and then . . .

i look at a tree. i love looking at trees and wondering what they have seen, what their stories are. i love their gracefulness, their power, their beauty, patience, and quiet strength. they are at the whim of the world, weather, fire, cars, pollution, and treeptopping utility workers. i have a glorious chestnut that has experienced all four owners of my 1909 home. it is host to a rope swing that my daughter loves more than any manmade toy structure created on earth. i love this tree because when i round the corner i know i’m home. whether the dog has died, the hail has destroyed my cabbage, or the jackass on the freeway cut me off to save 20 seconds.

i’m home.

and my stories will live along with this tree just as three other generations have.

~ by urbanfarmschool on May 5, 2009.