The drumbeat of the downpour pummeled the roof of the house. It came in a hurry, with a huge flash of lightning and a crash of thunder. We couldn’t hear anything else above the raindrops exploding upon the roof.
No one heard the bolt of lightning that split the huge oak out front. When we woke up in the morning, the pattern of sunlight coming through the front window was different. Jo was the first to go to the window and she let out a huge cry at the discovery. The rest of us rushed to her, staring in disbelief at the naked flesh of the tree staring back at us.
The tree had been in our family for generations. Our great-great-great-grandparents had carved their initials in it when they were courting. After their marriage, they’d built the house near it.
It had grown thick and strong. It’s trunk was the size of a monster truck tire. Huge arms spread over one another providing a cool canopy from the summer heat. Each generation had had swings attached to the lower branches and every child in the family was married beneath those outstretched arms.
The oak was as much a part of our family as any pet could have been. We’d taken it for granted, assuming it would be in the family for generations after we’d gone. It’s indestructibleness obvious to all of us. Now it lay before us, split open by the anger of Mother Nature.
The fault lines had been growing within us for some time. Jo, Sam and I were struggling to come to grips with our parents’ aging, while trying to allow them to do so with dignity. As the rain was beating on the house last night, Jo was trying to convince our parents that a retirement community might be a better solution than staying out at the house.
They’d been resistant to the idea, still feeling able – which they were – and not wanting to upset the routine of their lives. Sam had sided with our folks. I was somewhere in the middle. Angry words had been spoken and no one went to sleep happy.
I’m not sure if we all recognized the tree as a metaphor of sorts for the tumult we were going through, but Ma pulled us all together for a group hug. With tears in her eyes, she said it wasn’t time yet, but when it was they’d be ready.
That was as close as we’d come to peace in quite some time.
