The Mother Tree
Here's a picture taken by Kerry Woo
of the Great White Oak tree that we are having to take down at my house.
It's called The Mother Tree, because, ironically, it was my mother's favorite tree when she built the commune back in 1978 and she did everything she could to save it.
Tree surgeons over the past 15 years have tried to save it as well, but the tree is terribly sick, and as you can see, it's right next to the house.
My mother even built an entire deck around it to keep it before she died. The deck was removed on Tuesday.
The wind in northwest Tennessee has been bad the last few years. The limbs have been hitting the top of the house and it has gotten to the point it was the house or the tree.
Shelter won out.
The roots of this massive Oak are also buckling the house.
I love this tree.
People in Dresden have literally been stopping by watching it come down. It's one of the oldest in town and the tree guys say it's probably anywhere from 200 to 225 years old.
I'm with Kerry, I wish I knew someone who knew how to make totem poles these days.
As I grow older, I'm finding that it's small yet significant things that make me who I am.
The tree represents my mom, I know that. And, its like I'm losing another part of her but I'm not.
It will be gone by next weekend. My sister and I are mourning this tree in different ways, but the thing we do know is that there is a lesson of this, our own giving tree.
We have each other. We have the bond of knowing our mother raised us to care about things and each other and there is value in the world around us.
These bonds run deep between her and I and the love my parent had for this means a great deal to us, but we will remember it, as we remember her.
With reverence and appreciation of what we had. What we perceived we have lost but which isn't lost at all.
And that, my friends, is the story of my sister and I's beloved tree.