The old oak tree had been hit by lightening once. Must have been quite a strike because the trunk was split almost in two. The right side was charred and withered. Most of the branches had snapped off over the years leaving mostly trunk behind. But somehow, the left half of the tree had flourished. I loved to sketch that tree when I was young. On good days, I would draw it whole. Working from the left, I'd fill in the missing branches, paint leaves and birds and sunshine. But some days my sketch book would be filled with that old oak withered and blackened like my mood. A tree out of Halloween stories and nightmares. Dark and ominous.
My momma always said that tree was cursed. Cursed to be hit by lightening like that. But I always thought that tree was blessed. To survive such a beating and come back strong, why that is a miracle all it's own. So now, as I hold my daughter under this tree, I tell myself I can do it to. The lightening that has struck me dug deep but my roots hold me. I can still recover. I can and will go on. I just wish momma was here. This baby has tired me out something awful. I can hear momma telling me to "get to getting" and that make me smile.She never was one to sit about and mourn sour grapes. With her in my mind, I hitch my girl higher on my hip and walk down the hill to our home. I can tell when I pass out of the shade of the lightening tree. I can feel the sun on the back of my neck and the heat of it building in my hair. That old lightening tree has given me a moments rest but now the day lays before me long and full. Maybe tonight, after baby has settled, I'll get a chance to come back here and watch the bats circle the moon but there's plenty between then and now. I'd best get to getting.
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