As we drove past one of the many ponds in our neighborhood, our son wondered, “How is that tree not falling into the water?” He was referring to a tree living on the edge of the sloped shoreline.
My answer was simple. “Its roots.”
Hidden under the murky water was a steadfast tangle of roots — the small tree’s anchor.
It immediately became metaphoric to me, symbolic of the essence of parenthood.
We work tirelessly below the surface, planting the firmest foundation we possibly can for our children. We dig into the proverbial soil to nourish our kids with all they need for growth, development, repair, and stability. Day after day. Year after year. Forever and ever. Amen.
At the same time, above us, our happy little trees grow and blossom and add their unique beauty and oxygen to the world. They move upward and onward, inching further away while knowing deep in their limbs we’ve still “got” them (especially when the winds and lumberjacks of life appear).
Today that inquisitive boy who asked about the tree by the pond… is double digits. Ten tree rings.
Buddy, may you live as long as a giant sequoia and stand as tall as a redwood. Your mom will be “rooting” for you down below.