It is hard to believe.
This mourning came.
All of us together under one roof.
Liza's growing family.
Many more are here in spirit. I can feel them.
Grandma Diane, listening. Closer now.
Great Grandpa Charlie on the porch. In the garden.
Great, Great Grandma Hatta, wiping down the counters,
making dumplings and dry humor.
making dumplings and dry humor.
The family tree is what I want to touch.
With blood, like a river, there are mysteries in it.
_____
Liza loved the book, The Giving Tree, by Shel Silverstein
Enough that she chose to carry the
whole lesson on her back.
whole lesson on her back.
It's painful. The story. It begins beautifully.
"Once, there was a tree... and she loved a little boy."
There is joyful, simple play.
"And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree, very much.
And the tree was happy."
And the boy loved the tree, very much.
And the tree was happy."
Absence is the only thing the tree cannot bare.
"But the boy stayed away for a long time...
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back and the tree shook with joy and she said,
'Come, Boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and be happy.'"
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back and the tree shook with joy and she said,
'Come, Boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and be happy.'"
As the story goes, he's too busy.
He is trying very hard to make a life.
"...you may cut off my branches and build a house.
Then you will be happy."
Then you will be happy."
Just go ahead and take everything.
But when the first limb comes down it hurts.
And it just gets worse from there.
How is it that this is a children's book?
Why do we have to go so far away?
We can't see where the man goes.
We can't see what he built on the pages.
Where is the fruit of this labor?
Can he see it?
Isn't it enough?
When did he stop seeing the tree?
So utterly depleting, the ending.
Precious time past.
No tree. No shade. No fruit. No color.
_____
Being sorry is hardening.
Into regret.
Forgiveness is called for.
It's a fable.
The tree is not gone.
Go back to the early pictures.
That is what all the children want to do.
The children within us.
Who among us doesn't call?
Call for forgiveness.
And season and after season after season,
forgiveness is granted.
_____
Over Liza's body.
The illustration of a child resting under
the generous apple tree.
the generous apple tree.
In this place you may have all the fruit you need.
Unconditional love. Sweet and brave.
Not mysterious at all, this lesson she carries:
That we all, already have, everything.
It's a simple human paradise.
But isn't it just paradise?
To love.
To give and receive.
To want what we have.
To cherish.
_____
We would give anything Liza.
Rest now for a while.
Go out and play.
Look up now and then.
All around you, your big crooked family tree.
It is abundant.
_____
Beautifully written, Eva.
ReplyDeleteLiza,
ReplyDeleteYou took my breath away the first time I saw you. I had to take your picture - you were so beautiful.
I have been so proud of you in these two, too short decades - until your breath was taken away. I gasped for air at the
news - at the painful, senseless loss. My breath should have ended long before yours.
Now, I find my breaths are metered to my sadness because there is still so much love left that will go unspoken, go unshared and will be lost. But, you, my first-born grandchild, my beautiful Liza, will always be alive in my mind and heart - with every breath I take.
I love you - Your Grandma Diane
10/25/09