Trees Around My Heart posted 5/13/2008 11:59:15 AM | 18 kudos what's this?     report abuse

LaughTillYaPuke

Days later daddy came home with no little girl's nose pressed against the window waiting for him. And he came and found me by my great mother tree. The place I went upon waking every day since the creature, and he picked me up. How shocked he must have been at how light I was. A little girl who had forgot how to eat. Or too afraid to as the colors would come and she would promptly throw it up. And He carried me around and around that tree, pressing my face against his neck as the story was finally told. And I felt the quaking start in my daddy's belly just as it had mine. And he didn't lie to me. It DID happen. And I learned that God's most sacred creatures, men, could be the most frightening of all. That those big warm bodies, those sanctuaries in the storm, could become hard muscle and hate. He said that there was much more to this story, but that my soul was already too full. And daddy said it would take him years to empty it out to make room for that kind of story. Better to fill the corners with joy and crackers he said.

And he told me that everyone has something wrong with them. Something unique. And he said that I was born with my heart on the outside of my body. That other peoples were protected, but mine wasn't. And that while it was a special heart that couldn't be seen, it was the one that hurt the most. And that was why I got him for a daddy. To teach me how to build walls around it to protect myself. But I didn't know how to build walls I told him, I was only 4. So we decided that I would plant trees. Big daddy trees with branches that would wrap around me and protect my poor damaged heart from the works of the world.

And he taught me the word naive and the word trusting. And that they were the best words in the world, but also the most dangerous. And he promised to teach me how to keep those words from being scorched. Just like pretty flowers in the sun. And I slowly learned that not all was as it seemed. And that sometimes people put flowers in the sun even though they knew they would die. And that those flowers had to find a way into the shade by themselves. Bow their heads into the shade. Or to disappear into the dust, to live again another day. But I gave up my colors. They no longer brought me peace. No more mixing the dogs water with mud, with berries, with rust to paint my pictures on the barn, on the bark of my mother tree, to make grandfather stones beautiful. Only complying when I had to in school. Quickly slapping color on paper. Always water. Always fish. They could swim away.

And so it would stay. For 21 years. Until a baby boy was born. And that was the day I saw my colors again. The blue of my possibilities, the purple of my inner being, the red of my fire, the white of my faithfulness, the green of my future. He gave them all back to me in one whiff of his hair. And I would mix the dogs water again with mud, berries, seeds, and grain for texture. And we would paint my barn boards, my driveway, the bricks stacked by the garage and even pristine white paper. They were more beautiful than I had ever remembered. And maybe because they were his. The colors of Andrew.

And my long, long driveway that rolled over the hill and wrapped itself around my maple tree. This was his great mother tree. And I made sure he had a swing too. And I watch him take his first steps with one hand gripping the bark, and hug her tight before going home. And then onto me to say goodbye. And I would grip that little body tightly against mine, willing to give my very soul to see him kept safe and whole. And with the joy of having his arms squeeze me back with no shaking in his belly, I hand him to my sister. We nod to one another. Millions of words left unsaid. The pact has been made. This time different. And behind our beautiful faces, steel. There are blessings even in horror. And we are stronger than most. Damaged, chipped, but stronger for the glue left to repair us with. Secrets on the wind. The stories must be told some day. I have no earth to scream into anymore. Wait, she asks me with her eyes. Let him grow. And any others we are foolish enough to bring into our world. Let them grow. And then, only then, will we tell them how a woman can laugh and cry at the same time. And why we planted trees around their hearts.

And as my sister took him home I realized, that his colors were just as brilliant with him gone. His heart was safe. It was pure. And so was his vision. And through this child, we too had become more beautiful. And I began that day and continue on now, to trim these wayward dead branches away from my heart.

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Blogs by LaughTillYaPuke: House of Cards Gypsy Queen The Gum Tree The Age of Reason Felonies and other Petty Crimes What are You Looking for Rattling the Bones Spit In the Eye of the Devil The Best Damn Wayside EVER Coming into My Own Daddy's Girl Enough Already Trees Around My Heart The Mother Tree Colors The Most Beautiful Place on Earth Mother Barn In The Beginning TESTIFY!!! She's a Real Mother Alright..... Sharp Dead Toe Nails Melee Come to Life The Game....Part III The Game....Part II