On August 4, three weeks ago today, we lost three trees and part of another in our yard.  We believed the cause to be a ‘micro-burst.’  Now, please don’t misunderstand….we are grateful that in the wind, the house wasn’t damaged, and neither was my car when the maple tree landed on it…but, it was truly a heart wrenching loss.  Not by itself, but coupled with the loss of our original home just 18 months before…

You see, as I have explained, the tree…no…THE TREE was an anchor of sorts, and it was one of the remaining items from the original homestead that we were so blessed to keep….It SURVIVED the fire, debris removal and rebuilding…and yes…I have taken a few drives since it fell…and I got to thinking….

Did you ever consider the comparisons between the human body and a tree?  We both have a trunk and limbs….we often talk as humans about our “Family Tree” and our “roots.”

One of the things I noticed immediately about THE TREE was the fact that the roots never came up…They didn’t pull up the grass or any part of the driveway.  THE TREE was ripped from the roots, below the grass line.  The roots are right where they have always been.  They are planted deep.  23 years deep.  In good, fertile soil.  They received nutrients, sunlight and water…care, and love…and those roots held fast!  It made me think about my roots.  Could anyone or anything pull me away from them?  I like to think not.

We had 4 people here on August 14 to cut it all up and stack it.  At my request, they saved two large pieces each, of the Maple, Birch and Chokecherry.  While a friend will carve special things out of the wood, I am reminded that even when it seems we can no longer be who we are, we can still become more than we were.  Not only will those pieces be used to create something new, sentimental and beautiful, the main piece of the trunk will be carved into a birdbath.  THE TREE will continue to be a refuge to the birds in the neighborhood…  And the wood that was stacked will be donated to a family or families in our church who are in need of wood to heat their homes in the coming winter…

Lastly, as the tree was cut up, I was able to get an up close and personal view of a cross-section of the trunk.  A really good look at the rings, representing each year of growth.  It is possible that THE TREE was a few years old when we planted it, and it grew in our driveway for 23 years.

We were married in September of 1992 and planted THE TREE.  In April of 1994 we welcomed our first child, a boy.  Christian Jens.  The tree stood watch…and we could see it, as we sat in the rocking chair at our bedroom window, and rocked him to sleep…His brother, Andrew Stanley, joined us in July of 1996.  In 1998, we experienced an ice storm that shut down the northeast for weeks.  The tree survived, as did the birch trees.  As the boys got older we would lie under the tree and play.  When they could reach the bottom branches, they would try to climb.  Eventually, they COULD climb the tree.  They would throw toys into it and wait, climbing to retrieve those that got stuck.  When we had guests over, they would climb up and “hide”  and then greet each new arrival with a surprise “hello!”  First days of school were celebrated with a picture at the trunk of the tree.  Thunderstorms, Ice Storms, Blizzards and Hurricaines….THE TREE remained.  Snow-blowing, snow-plowing, paving…THE TREE saw it all.  With each new adventure, THE TREE grew…each new ring, often a quarter to a half inch a year, marked THE TREE internally with the history of that year….each experience making a difference in the growth of the tree.

I am certain that if you were to cut my trunk to get a cross-section and a good look at the “rings,” the only similar thing you would find is that before the cut I was healthy, strong, and vibrant.  Afterwards, I would be dead and grow no more, just like THE TREE.  My “rings” (most of them) are invisible.  I was born, learned to walk, speak, run, and climb…throw, draw sing.  Life events leaving an imprint that contributed to my growth; Love, Faith, death, tragedy, happiness, traditions, fear, learning, friendships from all stages of life…all of it.  Some left significant scars that still hurt on some days…others left pleasant memories that are a comfort to revisit…No…my rings are not visible, and if they were, there would be 53 years worth of them.

Yes, THE TREE is still  an anchor… the ROOTS are still there.  Like mine.  Deep, healthy, and alive.   All of you have had a part in my personal growth as a human being, in my “growth rings,’ in the shaping of who I am and who I hope to become….and MY roots are still there.  Thanks for letting me wax philosophical for a bit, as I work through this year’s ring.

They say God has a plan for us.  I believe that to be true, though I would be hard pressed to figure it out right now…what His plan is for me…

Did you know we lost our home about 17 months ago?  On August 7 it will be 17  months…we lost our home, two pets and nearly everything we owned.  We had a place to live while the debris was cleared, additional foundation poured, and new house built.  We moved in on October 9th, 2014.

What you may not know is that prior to the fire, for nearly 23 years, as I approached our driveway from the south (from up the hill), I would look for our house.  In the early years, before things grew up around us, I could see the house all the way down….in the daytime there it stood.  Waiting.  In the evenings/nights, I could see the lights and they signaled the safety…no… sanctuary, that was home.  23 years.

In the beginning (why not?), we had the house built over the summer of 1992, and moved in when we returned from our honeymoon in  late September.  We had plans for the landscaping….which included a tree in the middle of the driveway.  I took pictures….but I am not certain if I have them anymore…the fire.  We planted a Maple tree.  It was our plan for the tree to grow, and provide shade.  And beautiful colors in the fall.  The first tree was too weak and almost before we got it home, it died .  The nursery replaced it with a bigger tree.  One the boys and I would play under….one that we would use as the backdrop for school pictures.  Anytime we knew company was coming, the boys would climb up and hide in the leaves, in order to greet (in surprise) our guests.

We watched the snow piles build around it, as snow accumulated on its symmetrical frame…we watched all spring for the red buds to appear, and then the bright green as the leaves unfolded…and those colors in the fall.  That tree was magnificent.

Shortly after the fire, and while it was still painful to look for our first home as I traveled down the hill, the tree became my anchor.  The tree that stood silent watch over us for nearly 23 years….the tree that grew as we grew….some of us heavier, some of us taller, and all of us older.  The Tree.

Yesterday, it appears as though a circular cloud, with significant wind, rain, and hail, set its sights on our driveway, that tree, and the birch trees near the back door.  That tree.   Gone.  And it hurts.  It was more than just a tree…