A simple life

I've been thinking about a man and a tree. The tree is a sprawling red oak that shelters a little ivory colored farmhouse in Texas. I love that tree even though it has long scraggly limbs and an unkept appearance, far from beautiful and sculptured. It was planted by a simple man, born and raised in East Texas who grew up poor and wanting. The eldest of four children, he survived hard years, but he wanted more than to survive. He wanted to do better. So when he was 19 years old the man married a simple woman and they moved to a simple house in a small Texas town and began to live a simple life together. He found a job to make a living at the town newspaper, but all the while dreaming of buying a farm and planting a tree. And as the years passed the couple had a baby, and they raised her in town and she grew and went to school and graduated and made plans for a life.

Then after years of hard work he had saved enough money to make a downpayment on a piece of land on the corner in the country. And finally....he planted a red oak tree. And he began living his dream of being a farmer, or, his version of it. In the years that followed, and because he couldn't afford to quit, he worked hard at the paper, the job he didn't like, so he could come home exhausted, only to work harder at the job he loved. On his little corner in the country. And after 45 years of working as a pressman at the newspaper, he retired. His only gift for his years of work and devotion was a watch.

But then he was able to spend all of his days in the country raising cows and chickens and sheep and goats and all kinds of birds. He bailed hay and mowed the local cemetery and grew fruit trees and the most beautiful garden. And while he worked hard, the red oak grew.  He loved his little farm on the corner in the country, and rarely strayed from it. He began each day at sunup, dressed in green or blue "khakis" with a long sleeved shirt, and worked all day long in the hot Texas sun. He would tend to his chickens and gather eggs and doctor cows and weed his garden, and by then the red oak had grown to serve its purpose, sheltering the little ivory colored farmhouse where he lived with his wife.

And as he and the tree grew older, he spent time with his family, 6 grandkids to be exact and loved and taught and laughed and endeared himself to each one of them. And as grandkids married and the family grew, he welcomed them all under the shelter of the big old tree. And great grandkids were born and learned to love the little farm and the tree just as their parents did, and almost as much as the man. And life was as good as he could have imagined.

But growing old brought new challenges and caused the man to make changes once his ill wife required his care. And as his focus turned to caring for her, he tried to keep up with his work on the farm, but he soon knew he could no longer do it all. And so he sold the cows and the sheep and the goats. But he was determined to keep his chickens and garden. And he adjusted to his new responsibilities. But his wife grew more dependent on him and then one day he knew he must give it all up. He knew he had tended his last weed in the garden, and grew his last Texas sized cantaloupe and watermelons. And with that, his focus turned solely to his wife. And even though his family helped as much as they could, his lovely little corner in the country was left wanting. But even with the lack of care, the scraggly old tree remained at its post.

After many years of caring for his invalid wife, at the age of 96 she died in their little ivory colored farmhouse on the corner in the country. And with her passing, for the first time in his life he found himself alone. For the next few years he lived quietly in the house he loved, taking care of himself as best he could. His new determination was to live and die in his own brown spindle bed in the little old house. But a day came when he knew he could no longer live alone. And so he dutifully packed his old suitcase and went to live in Louisiana with his daughter and son-in-law. And even though he was surrounded by his family who loved him so much, he missed Texas, his little farmhouse and the big old tree.

Around the time of his 96th birthday, he fell and broke his hip, and his worst fear came to life. Confined to a hospital bed from October to February, he wrestled with the reasons why God kept him on earth. He tried to understand and endure, but it may have been the hardest thing he ever worked to achieve. And then just before he was to be taken back to his beloved Texas for a visit, he died. Far from his brown spindle bed, and his ivory colored farmhouse and his big old tree. And as his family gathered around him for the last time, and while he'd thought himself a simple man, they knew, in fact, he was so wonderfully extraordinary, anything but simple to them.

Nine years have passed since he died in Louisiana, but his ivory house still remains in his family. They still love to spend time there and sit under the tree he planted with his loving hands. And they know and understand it was a privilege to call him their own. Throughout his years he taught them about love and endurance and loyalty and service and patience and keeping your word....living his simple life. 

For my grandfather...

How captivating he was.

I miss him every day.