This weekend I was in the driveway getting some plywood out of my truck when a car on the street pulls across the driveway and stops. We’re near town enough to get traffic and the occasional car turning around, but this was unusual. The passenger rolls down the window and I warily approached close enough to talk loudly.
The man in the passenger seat introduces himself- he grew up and then lived in the house as an adult for many years, before it was completely remodeled. He was showing his girlfriend where he grew up. Clearly he was very sentimental about the place, saying if he wins the lottery he wants to buy it back.
We chatted a few minutes about the house then he asks about the hickory tree in the back yard. It was a giant shag bark that shaded the house for many years. He shared how it survived a tornado growing up. I shared it survived a tornado ten years ago, but was damaged by a storm when it was heavy with nuts. Then an overeager arborist cut it down and bucked it up while I was at a funeral, rather than trim it or at least leave the trunk to be sawed as discussed.
We both loved that tree. That tree got me into turning. I thought at least I could make something of what was left. Among a busy life with small children it took a couple of years to build the skill and tools but eventually I salvaged some small bowls from the deteriorating remnants. I told him ‘I have something for you’ and picked one of the bowls off the shelf and gave it to him so he could have a part of it too. He was very touched.
His girlfriend asked who is Colin, referring to a wooden sign on the shop wall. I shared it was the sign I made for my son’s grave to stand in for the permanent marker delayed by the pandemic. How we had gotten our offer accepted for the house the same day we got his diagnosis and how the house was just what he had needed.
We chatted a bit more about the house, they asked to walk around the yard, and eventually departed. We said goodbye, having clearly connected about a place and the special memories it had for each of us. That connection happened because of a tree and the desire to make more than a nice object but something that means a little more.
The man in the passenger seat introduces himself- he grew up and then lived in the house as an adult for many years, before it was completely remodeled. He was showing his girlfriend where he grew up. Clearly he was very sentimental about the place, saying if he wins the lottery he wants to buy it back.
We chatted a few minutes about the house then he asks about the hickory tree in the back yard. It was a giant shag bark that shaded the house for many years. He shared how it survived a tornado growing up. I shared it survived a tornado ten years ago, but was damaged by a storm when it was heavy with nuts. Then an overeager arborist cut it down and bucked it up while I was at a funeral, rather than trim it or at least leave the trunk to be sawed as discussed.
We both loved that tree. That tree got me into turning. I thought at least I could make something of what was left. Among a busy life with small children it took a couple of years to build the skill and tools but eventually I salvaged some small bowls from the deteriorating remnants. I told him ‘I have something for you’ and picked one of the bowls off the shelf and gave it to him so he could have a part of it too. He was very touched.
His girlfriend asked who is Colin, referring to a wooden sign on the shop wall. I shared it was the sign I made for my son’s grave to stand in for the permanent marker delayed by the pandemic. How we had gotten our offer accepted for the house the same day we got his diagnosis and how the house was just what he had needed.
We chatted a bit more about the house, they asked to walk around the yard, and eventually departed. We said goodbye, having clearly connected about a place and the special memories it had for each of us. That connection happened because of a tree and the desire to make more than a nice object but something that means a little more.