©2007 - Authors retain all copyrights.
In the woods there is a clearing where long ago an old grandfather tree once stood: a stump, bigger than a kitchen table, rests in the center. The blazing sun shines down onto the clearing where nothing grows. The brush and saplings keep their distance out of respect for the wise tree that once made his resting place there. In his absence the near by cedar and maple trees lean into the grove; bowing with respect but hesitant to enter. All is still. Far away, deeper in the forest, a seedling struggles through undergrowth for the sky. As a seed it was blown into that thicket from that very same grandfather tree. If it could only reach the sky it would grow to the height of the tallest, strongest tree in the woods. If it could only reach the sky.
I met Grandfather in the deep Western Washington forests near Arlington. I lived in the woods back then. I lived for the woods. The deep canvas of greens and deep blues was my playground and my escape. I would run to the woods and speak to everything because the forest was the only one who would listen. Listen and never tire.
I met Grandfather in a deep wood of maple and cedar where the sun broke through in the center; creating a ring of green light on the forest floor. The light shown down on him, in a way that I can only describe as surreal.
I was running from life, from fear, from pain and sorrow. I came over a log, not looking where I was going, and ran right into him. I fell; he stood strong in front of me. He looked at me in a way that plainly asked, “What is wrong granddaughter?” He asked me to tell him everything and so I sat down near his base and opened my heart to the only one who would listen.
I told him that I was sixteen and I was losing my home. I was only sixteen and I was losing everything I had ever known. The cruel hands that touched me were still cruel hands of a familiar; the cold heart that hurt me was still one I could understand. My fears were still my fears and my heart was still mine to be broken.
I told him that all the lies I’d ever known were all I ever had known and the tears I cried every night were all that I could comprehend. In the darkest hours of my years I still had familiarity, I still had knowledge of what was happening to me and I could still control that it would always be the way it was. That I could bear, that I could work through.
Now it was all going to change. I would be thrust into a life of chaos, of wandering and uncertainty that seemed unreal. As the bedrock of my life washed away I couldn’t help but believe that this was the end. I couldn’t go on. I came to the forest to say goodbye. I came to the forest to die.
I pulled out my knife and showed him the blade. I could feel him weeping. I told him that this was not the life a girl should have. I told him that no one feels these things. My life was a jigsaw of abuse and untruths. Whatever lay within the walls of my mind there was nothing of comfort, cure or light. It was all confusion and hurt. What kind of life was this I asked him?
There was a long silence and I stood up; sure that I was right to be so ill of heart. But a warm breeze touched me and pulled me in to brush closely to his trunk. Bows bent and I felt branches brush my back. I was being held by him. I leaned in and stretched my arms around his rough bark. As the wind blew on it brought me deeper into an embrace that was so alive I could almost hear his heart beat.
When I leaned back and looked up into his branches I could feel him smiling. I smiled back.
I left the woods that day very much alive and with a new resolve. I promised to always remember that my Grandfather loved me and my pain was his. I could never let myself forget that wood and I could never forget Grandfather.
I moved a week later; away from the forest and everything I had ever known. I moved to more fears, more pain, and more heart ache. Yet I also moved to new life, new hopes, new dreams and a world that was much brighter and safer than any I had ever known. Grandfather was right, I would be alright.
Two years later I returned to my old home and traversed through the trees; following a dim memory and a sorrowful recollection. I picked through the underbrush and clambered through seedlings grown astray. As I neared what I new to be Grandfathers grove I broke through a thicket to bare earth. I looked ahead and my eyes were burnt with broken ground and a rapped trail through stumps and fallen trees. Screaming; someone was screaming. I closed my throat to catch hot breath and realized it was me.
I found his stump. It was the biggest in the long stretch of deadwood. When I lay down upon it my feet stuck out behind me. I wept as I embraced what was left of the wisest being I had ever known. I rubbed my face into his stump and covered myself with his blood. It was so fresh. It must have been only a few weeks sense he fell.
After hours of grief and regret I sat up and placed my palms on him. I whispered to myself in comfort but felt none. I took out that very same blade I had brought to him those few years ago. The same blade I had told myself I would bury in his roots as a promise to Grandfather that I would never try and hurt myself again. I gently ran my finger along the blade but knew I couldn’t do it. Grandfather saved me forever. I would never look at a blade with longing again.
I kissed him goodbye and left the ravaged land behind; dove back into the green virgin wood. I walked along almost blindly for several miles when I stumbled on a long and fell face forward into brush.
Getting up I looked into what I had landed in and noticed a seedling peeking through the thick Salal. I quickly started ripping away the brush near her and clearing her path to the sky above. Thorns and sticks tore my hands but I worked in a furious frenzy that could not be abated even by night. When the moon rose overhead I stepped back to see the clear blue haze reflect off her tiny leaves. I smiled and knelt to give her a gentle hug. I told her not to be afraid of the light and her newfound freedom. I told her to open up her branches and embrace the sky. I told her to grow with the knowledge that she could save her own life and many others if she could just bow with the wind; bow and embrace.
I buried the knife at her base and walked away through the night. I watched my feet and watched the wood. I felt a freedom from long ago. I knew what hurt, I knew what I feared but instead of being afraid of loosing all to confusion I welcomed the chaos of the coming day. I looked back; memorizing the path as best I could. I knew I would be returning.
Staring at her now I see she has grown but a little; only reaching my eyes. Yet her base is stronger, her roots are deeper and she is reaching for the light. I look up and know that I’m reaching too.