In the front yard of my family home, there are two Trees of Heaven.
I was always fascinated by these trees, and especially since they had fern like leaves
that seemed to belong on the floor of a forest. At our family's camp near Panther Lake ,
I'd escape into our 23 acres of wooded land and when I found moss and ferns at the base of trees, I would lay flat on my back for hours, watching blue sky and clouds pass through branches up high.
(this went on until I was considered missing and my brothers would search me out).
Back at the family house, I was about ten when I asked my mother to name the species on the front trees. "Well my dear, those are Trees of Heaven". From then on I saw them as protective forces, overseeing all the family events . That was 39 years of a marriage, starting in 1958 , two children soon joined by two more boys to add to the pack. A Collie dog romping the grounds with the children running after. There was a change from private to public schools, and dad had three start up businesses which eventually engaged the whole family. Two of the children married , one moving out of state, the other local. Visitations, from friends, family and business associates, preceding the passing of four family members, (one a suicide). In the last 5 years of the house's possession by the family, the branches of the Trees of Heaven had overgrown to such a degree they threatened the roof of the big Cape Cod. They had to be cut down in preparation eventually to save the roof and sell the house.
In 2020, the house and the trees went to a new family.
Recently, as I was walking a two lot property on the northside of the city (not at all like the yard of the Big Cape Cod I grew up in), I noticed a large tree, with majestic branches reaching over the neighbors fence. It spanned my yard and shielded me form the sun. I identified it a Tree of Heaven.
I had a moment of deep nostalgia, remembering the story of that family house , overseen by those trees. I was grateful for all the cards the universe had dealt me since the beginning in that Cape Cod, even the hard ones had helped me grow so much.
Now what I remember in my mind, comes more easily as I walk in my new yard and see the Tree Of Heaven. But the memories are softened by time, sometimes wistful, and I'm secure in the fact that
I simple recall them from a place where I once belonged.
Comments