Today, I visited my old home. The property used to belong to my grandparents and I grew up in the house with them, my mom, and my aunts and uncles.
The old house isn’t there anymore. My aunt had a new one built and she lives there now. The construction process meant that lots of our old foliage had to go. I’m talking about trees that my grandfather planted. He planted a tree every time one of us was born, until he couldn’t physically do it anymore. I think mine was the last one. It was a young spruce in the center of the front yard.
The only tree remaining belonged to my grandmother. The story goes that it was a wedding gift. Today, it stands taller than the new house. The tree I used to climb as a child is still thriving; only a little bark damage from three generations of kids playing there.
Storms have taken a branch or two. Erosion has exposed some roots. Nevertheless, the tree is still standing, still blooming every spring. New leaves and boughs growing every year.
The same point could be made about our family. There have been hardships and turmoil. Things that would tear apart those with less secure roots. In spite of all that, our family is still here, still growing, still thriving.
My grandmother’s tree outlived her and it will probably outlive me. It’s amazing to think about how your legacy can live on and change the perspective of your descendants. We should all be mindful of the seeds we are sowing for the future.