The Tree of Interwoven Lives

Chloe

I am sitting under the tree that holds so many memories for me. It was here where I would spend endless summer afternoons chasing my friends in a game of tag. It was where I took Boomer on his last walk before he passed away. We took prom pictures here. Now, I sit here with my journal in my lap making a pros and cons list and trying to decide which college I want to go to. I know some may think it’s ridiculous to hold such value behind a tree but there is something about this tree in particular. It is almost the core holding our little town together. Almost everyone I know has memories held here. A few years back when they tried to cut it down, our town revolted and the tree cutting company left with their tails tucked between their legs. I heard one of the men mumble, “It’s just a tree, people.”

My mom grew up here her whole life. When she and my dad married, he was in the Navy and that took them all around the world. When he retired and it was time to pick a place to settle, my mom swears the tree is what pulled her back here. The tree means so much to her that she now plans every pivotal life moment around it. Every time she was pregnant with my siblings and I, she told my dad by the tree. Every special occasion involves pictures with the tree. She even makes sure it’s the first thing she tells new neighbors about and it’s the first thing we all show to anyone visiting for the first time. The tree stands between two streets in our cul-de-sac and though it’s about half a mile away from our house, that doesn’t fade its’ signfiicance. We will intentionally find our ways to it.

The thing that makes this tree even more special is the way it has brought connection amongst others.  Last summer, I was away at a camp I volunteer at in the summer for chronically ill children. The volunteers always get there a few days before the campers to bond and set up. During the campfire one night, we were all talking about where we were from and our families. When I mentioned my town, one of the other volunteers interjected and asked if it’s where the huge oak tree with the wide trunk was. I was speechless that she knew. She continued to tell me that her grandfather passed through our town when he was making his way to New York after coming to our country as an immigrant. She continued by telling me that he sat there and swore he heard what he thought to be the voice of God reassuring him that he was safe now and that life in this country would be good. I felt tears well in my eyes. We enjoyed the rest of the campfire with the other volunteers but connected later. Someone else, from outside of our town, knew our tree. 

Shawn

I shoot up out of bed. Rocked by another nightmare,  I click my phone and realize it’s only 1 A.M. I get up and head to the kitchen to get some water. I rub my eyes and convince myself I am awake and okay. These nightmares have grown more consistent recently and since they impact my sleep, my school work is suffering and I find myself growing more irritable. I am a third year med student and preparing for my board exams. Now is not the time to be losing it. 

My mom committed suicide six months ago. I have been through what I think is all of the stages of grief. I thought I processed it all. I was doing surprisingly well I thought. The nightmares caught me by surprise and they’ve been this way for almost three weeks now. In all of them, she is there and suffering and I am trying to get to her to help and can’t. It’s almost as if I’m paralyzed. I know from all the prerequisite psych classes they made me take that this is a projection of my feeling emotionally numb. I am seeing a therapist regularly and he’s been trying to guide me through some meditations I can do before bed but to be honest, I think they’re stupid and don’t do them outside of his office. The exhaustion is winning now however and I decide I will try them tonight before bed. I head back to bed and toss and turn for a few more 

hours until I surrender and get up. I type up emails to my professors and explain that I need a mental health day. They all knew about my mom and offered me much grace when it initially happened but I never took them up on it as school was a necessary distraction. I figured I would cash in their offers today and take a drive, force myself to process whatever it is my brain was trying to relay. 

I wake myself up with a hot shower and some seriously strong coffee. After I throw some food in the cat’s bowl, I grab my keys and wallet and head out. I get on the freeway and just drive aimlessly. Something encourages me to get off the next exit and I do. I am in a quaint little town and see a general store and some other local businesses. You can tell it is the type of place where people have lived their whole lives and rarely stray from. It’s cute, almost like something out of one those cheesy Christmas movies all women over the age of 30 love. 

I drive through slowly and enjoy the scenery. I make a couple of right turns and find myself in a housing community. All of the homes are one level and you can tell they hold smaller families where everyone knows their neighbor and they all care for one another. After a few more turns, I see this massive tree in front of me. Its beauty is silencing and it looks as if it’s 50 feet tall and sturdier than the other trees in the area. I park the car alongside the road and walk up to it. I find myself reaching for it’s trunk and feeling the bark with my fingers. It is as if I am being pulled to this tree. I go to my car and grab a sweatshirt to sit on. I park it under the tree and just enjoy the sound of the wind passing through its leaves and the sun poking through the branches. I take out my pocket journal and start to sketch the tree. After a few more minutes of sitting, I find myself praying. This is especially odd because I wouldn’t normally consider myself religious. I am moved to tears and sit there and just let it all out. Once the tears stop, I take some deep breaths and feel as if a large burden was lifted from my shoulders. In those moments of prayers and tears, I found myself telling my mom I forgave her. I told my Dad I forgive him for all the pain he caused us when I was younger. Pain I don’t think my mom could ever get past. The pain she eventually surrendered to. I found myself I deserved to be free from my grief and that despite it all, my mom would want me to focus on myself, my studies and my well-being. I still don’t know what brought me to that tree but I’m glad I listened.

Chloe

I decided on Colgate for school. Their programs are more what I was looking for, it was closer to home and the surrounding area had a lot of natural beauty that would help me stay grounded. I registered for mostly gen-eds during my first semester. I wanted to get them out of the way so I could dive more into my major: physical therapy.  

I walked into my biology class and set my bag down on the floor next to my feet. After a few seconds, I heard someone whisper “Excuse Me?” I looked around and saw someone who was looking at me. He had a lanyard hanging around his neck which led me to think he was the T.A.. 

“Umm...yea?”

“I know this sounds weird but I saw the pin on your bag that says Hartwick. Is that where you’re from?”

“Yea- why?”

“Okay, so to sound even more weird, is that the town with the giant oak tree? In that smaller housing complex?”

I was speechless. How in the world…?

“Yeah, actually. That tree is where I chose this college.”

“I’ll spare you the story but that tree helped me a lot too.”

Ever curious to know more, I glanced at his name badge and decided I would add him on Facebook after class: Shawn Sullivan.