This Branch Deserves More

We were out at my mom-in-law’s house this weekend. Four generations just loving on one another. 

Celebrating Dave. 

Playing Mommy.

Playing dead.

Snuggling. She crawled over to her Daddy and let him know she wanted to snuggle by pressing her face into his. Happy Father’s Day for sure.

“I wear this dress for Grandma Tracy. Mommy, my beautiful dress is so beautiful. I’m so beautiful!” 

And we played and worked outside. 

Graham and I hauled a chopped-down tree back to the burn pile. These branches had grown together and then separated. 

A theologian would have a brilliant parable ready to go. But that’s not my forte. I often have more questions than answers. Not doubts so much. But wonderings. 

A country singer would have a Top 100 single. I don’t know much about Country music, but I think this song would include a high school romance, whirlwind courtship, wedding day dance, affair, a couple kids, failed counseling, and a house fire. 

A celebrity would go viral from posting it to Instagram with the caption #tree #trees #weirdtree #treesofinstagram #branchesofinstagram #foundthistreewheniwastakingabreakfromfilming #wedonthavetreeswhereilive #alltreesmatter #nofilter…or something along those lines. 

When I saw the branches, I thought, “This belongs in a short story. Or a poem. But I could never write it.” Why I immediately thought this branch deserved better than me is a sad commentary on my opinion of myself. I’ve never written a short story. But that doesn’t mean I can’t. Maybe I’ll write one about that tree. About this branch. About the pond it shaded. Or possibly a poem. Maybe I’ll channel Frost and pen a few beautiful stanzas about this set of gnarled and entwined branches. 

Or maybe I will just post it to Instagram and tag it #ThisBranchDeservesMoreThanHashtags and call it a day. 

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