I have lived in the same place for a little over 8 years now and have become strange friends with an unlikely candidate. A tree. A dead tree. She has been dead ever since I knew her. She used to have a friend, also dead, but years ago the friend fell down and rotted into the fertile soil beneath.
I don't know that I can explain my love of this tree. I liked how she stood there, strong and defiant. An old, apparently useless thing; she dared me to love her beauty, to accept her just as she was. And I did. Any time I drove back and forth to town, my eyes would light on what I came to think of as my tree. Just a moment, a brief nod to this steadfast friend. Part of me always wondering if this would be the time that she would be gone, blown over by the wind or simply having given up and fallen down, roots flailing in the air as sometimes happens.
Recently, construction started in the field nearby and I knew this was my cue. I pulled my car to the side of the road one sunny…
It is officially Fall. August and its sultry weather stayed with us well into September, and Indiana days are just giving way to the cool sunset evenings that call the entire family out of doors. Tonight I marveled as I watched my daughters play together, both pretending to be super heroes who could fly (on our swings) and then chase criminals as they giggled their way through the yard. The dog chased the cat through the too-tall grass and I looked at the Mister.
"I don't know if you've noticed," I said, "but our family is just about perfect right now."
"I have," he replied, smiling.
All of this comes on the heels of one of the deepest depressions I have ever experienced. It is one that frightened me with its insidious nature. Even now, I cannot look back and say when it began. Was it three years ago, after our miscarriage? I admit that I did all I could to avoid the feelings surrounding that time, choosing instead to stay busy. Was it aft…