Trying
Lost a limb off one of the big oaks in yesterday’s storm. I’m a little sad. We’ve been babying those trees since the last big drought hit them hard. There is good news, however, you really have to look to see where the limb fell. So, it’s all for the best. Trees shed limbs all the time, especially from weak spots. And, as if I needed another reminder, nothing is forever no matter how badly you want it. So, I’ll cut up the fallen member today, and move on.
Sometimes, however, I wish I could be more like the red ants that populate my back lots. They work constantly all day long at their assigned tasks and probably never think twice about anything other than just what they’re doing, especially a fallen limb. They go back and forth down the long highways they carve into the terrain, thousands of little feet, over thousands of hours, gathering seeds, putting them up, worrying about nothing except the job at hand.
And now that I say it, I don’t want to be anything like a red ant. I want to know I’m alive and I want to spend time trying to figure out why. And I want to worry about what I’m doing. And I want to miss that fallen limb. I want to grow new trees. I want to love. And lose. And maybe love again. I want to put myself out there. Sing songs to strangers. Sing songs to people I love. Gather my thoughts. Write these words. Maybe say something useful. Maybe say something helpful. Maybe learn how to be a better person. But always trying.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale