October 9, 2009

  • When We’re Ready


    Two days ago, I was teasing the tree out front, the one by the pond: “All of the other trees in the neighbourhood have gotten their pretty colours in… now don’t you feel left out?”

    That evening, on the way home from Holyoke, I told Ken that I was concerned about Old Harry (Yes. I named the tree). You see, usually, he’s the first tree to turn red and gold.

    Ken said, “It’ll change when it’s ready.”

    He sounded so serious. I didn’t expect that. “Okay,” I said.

    The tree, in our conversation, became me. Apparently, both Harry and I are stubborn. I will change when I am good-n-ready. I didn’t argue; Ken is right.

    It’s one of those true things that gets buried in the dark fog that surrounds me at times. You know, the truth that it is “me” that is keeping “me” from doing the things that I want to do. It is easy to forget who is in charge, and it is easier to find some way to deny that it is YOU when you’re depressed.

    Hm, I thought. I think I need to grab the reins back. It’s MY life, after all. Ken’s right. I need to flip this stubbornness over, against The Black pit. Hm.

    I yawned, pulling into our parking lot. Maybe tomorrow. I’m too tired to think about it right now.

    Yesterday morning, I stepped outside and saw Old Harry:



    The tree teased me: “Well, now, Vanessa, truly all of the other trees in the neighbourhood have changed… Don’t you feel left out?”

    “Not at all,” I said. “I’ll change when I am ready… Just like you.”

    Ken came up behind me and said, “You talkin’ to trees now?”

    “Yup,” I said, turning to my husband. “Just Old Harry, here. Isn’t he pretty?”

    Ken shrugged.  “Told you it would be fine. Everything in it’s own time, Honey.”

    He grabbed my hand and kissed it as we walked to our car.

    I love that handsome, patient man of mine.

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