I was just a young, new mother when we relocated our little family from Los Angeles to a quiet hamlet bordering a redwood forest near the beautiful coastal city of Santa Cruz. We loved it there; the pristine beauty, the clean air, the peace and quiet.
We moved into a cabin we had rented at the edge of the
forest and settled down to domestic bliss; coaxing our baby boy to take his
first tottering steps, shopping in the local market for heirloom tomatoes and portabello
mushrooms, watering the hanging fern that grew to great lengths thanks to the sunlight
that filtered into the large windows that covered the front of our A-Frame
home-sweet-home.
As a bonus, it was just a ten mile drive through the forest
that brought us to the city and the breathtaking views of the ocean and picnics
on the beach and to watch the local surfers.
When Dale was at work I would load the baby and the baby stroller
into the ’65 Ford Mustang convertible that I just had to have during a pregnant
moment a year before. It was such a sweet little car - destined to be a classic
but at that point just a cute old car. I
loved it, in spite of the fact that because of it I learned what a butterfly
valve was. When the car wouldn’t start I could pop open the hood, find a small
rock to prop open said butterfly valve, go back behind the wheel, turn the key
and voila down with the hood and off we would go - baby and me. Off to a park with a walking trail through
the redwoods where we strolled – delightfully enveloped with the silent majesty of the forest and the intoxicating aroma of pine needles. We’d reach what would become my
favorite bench - a favorite because it was at the base of one of the largest
trees; far enough into the woods to feel magical and far enough into the walk
for my baby to have finished his bottle and to be sound asleep allowing me the
freedom to pull out a book to read and enjoy those few exquisite moments of ”me time” that mothers
of babies find so elusive.
As Christmas approached we bundled our little family up in
parkas and woolen hats, put the top down on the Mustang, laughingly called it
our “one horse open sleigh” and drove to the designated spot in the forest
where we were allowed to cut down our own tree.
Dale chose one that I feared was much too large but he sawed and chopped
and twisted and down it came to the squeals of a one year old and the muffled
clapping of Mommy’s gloved hands. Into the car it went sticking way out over
the trunk but the little trio happily sang “Dashing Through the Snow in a One
Horse Open Sleigh” while Daddy waved goodbye to the attendant and Mommy prayed
the tree would stay put in the back of the car until we made it home and up the
steep driveway.
In truth, it was a meager Christmas due to the fact that the
business that had taken us there, well let’s just say it just didn’t work out. We
were determined to go out on our own and make it there anyway but our savings
were quickly used up; we had to sell one of our cars, the nice one and despite
our best efforts, things were looking grim.
We were being faced
with having to move back to the smog and traffic and heat of L.A., having to
admit defeat, moving in with my parents and leaving a life we had so carefully
chosen and had so enjoyed.
While Dale went to close down his office and then over to pay
the final rent on the house, I tucked my baby into his stroller and with tears streaming
down my face brought on by an intense sense of loss, fear, disappointment and failure;
I went for a final walk in the forest. I pushed my way slowly over the pine
needles to the bench at the base of my favorite tree. It was huge, the width of
a small car and as tall as a skyscraper. As my son slept, I tucked his blanket under
his chin and I leaned back in the absolute silence of the forest. I peered
through the branches that reached forever upward and felt a kinship with that
tree…my problems were as big as it was! Insurmountable and unconquerable, all seemed
lost. How could I possibly do all that would come next?
And then, overhead, just a dot of silver sparkled in the sky
many miles above the tree. I squinted my tear filled eyes and watched a glistening
jet, high and silent in the brilliant blue pass overhead. And in that instant a
thought came to my mind…”The pilot of that plane looking down on this giant
tree would see it as being quite small from his vantage point!” And suddenly,
I began to view my vexing problems from a different perspective. A loftier view!
In the grand scheme of things this was a challenge to be sure but not the end
of the world and certainly not something that I couldn’t handle. A list of the
blessings I still had and the potential opportunities ahead populated the
optimistic part of my brain and a feeling of peace and of renewed strength
flooded my soul… and I bowed my head and whispered “Thank you!” to the
compassion and understanding of the most high one who was viewing my problems from a much higher
vantage point than even that jet pilot. I hurried back to the cabin to pack for
moving. No more tears, I was ready to turn the page and tackle the next
chapter.
Many many chapters later I find myself looking back down on
my life from a loftier point of view. The children have grown, the
grandchildren are growing, Dale is gone.
I’ve enjoyed life, tackled many things, bitten off more than
I could chew more than once, made good decisions, made some bad ones, suffered
through some things (key word here is through), left a few too many things to
do until now that should have been done in younger years or should have been
done all along…and then…. ”OH DEAR, how
can I do it all?” I feel myself begin to panic; I clench the arms of my chair and my mind is whisked away to that moment again... looking up up up at that giant problematic redwood tree in the forest
that day so many years ago and just as I wipe away a tear I suddenly get a strong and yet calm directive to look back more closely at my life from the view I have from here and now and with the strength of experience to move ahead without fear to the next chapter.
I quite like the view from here.
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WRITING ASSIGNMENT #37 - High School Part I
Describe your school (What did it look like?Where was it located?:
What were you called? (ie the Tigers, the Cougars) What were your school colors?
Describe yourself as a teenager (hair style, fashion, idioms, etc. ) What things were important to YOU?
Describe your best friends during high school.
Where did you and your friends spend time after school and what did you do there?
Were you involved in school sports? Clubs? Music..drama...dance? Tell about them, your biggest successes and flat out failures.
What were your favorite subjects and why and of course the reverse...what subjects did you not like or even hate.
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