Even though grief is a cold ocean and relief a warm sigh, they can both be in my chest at the same time.
I can grieve what my mother is losing, what we are losing, while I am glad to be home, tending only to myself and Roxie.
Where I place my focus is my choice.
Today my focus is on the wet snow lying heavy on the tree branches. Today I wonder why the parrotia persica hasn’t yet lost its leaves while I was away, when every other tree has, the gingkoes in a collapse of yellow that this morning was buried under white.
At my mom’s, the tree I lie back on is a weeping beech, bigger than a house, with one mother trunk that reaches to the sky and three daughters that grow sideways to get out from under her shadow. The largest low-lying trunk serves as my chaise lounge. The twisting branches reaching up for light form a massive dome around me.
In Cincinnati, it’s the much smaller parrotia that comforts me. I can’t lie back on it, but I can lean against it. Most of the trees in the park have clean, straight trunks, but this one has limbs at my waist, chest, and shoulder. If I lean back against the trunk, it’s like being hugged by a tree. Or, if not quite hugged, then upheld.
There is a concept among indigenous peoples called “all my relations.” My relations are not just my family relatives, but all people. And not just all two-legged, but also all four-legged. And not just all those, but also the standing people.
Who are the standing people?
The trees.
The two-legged, the four-legged, the standing people. These are some of my relations.
Chewing the Cud of Good
Thankful for more relations than I can imagine.
Thanks, for your post, which I can relate to in a few ways.
I agree that grief and relief can co-exist at the same time. I think many would relate. It reminds me of my deep grief, when my husband las leaving me the first time, which continued alongside the great joy I felt when I learnt soon after that I was finally having our baby (which did not change his decision at the time).
And yes, I believe we’re all related, coming from the first people, Adam and Eve. And I’m thankful for the rest of the beautiful creation, especially the beautiful trees and plants that sustain us in so many ways and the animals we befriend.
I really miss the trees lining our local Breakfast creek, where I walk daily if I can, though that’s harder in the heat of summer when I have to care for my Mum in the cooler times of most days.
Colleen, thank you for so generously sharing your experiences and perspectives.