September 19, 2005

The Trouble Tree


Snapshots In My Time...
Of My Time.....Hauntings.

I got the following in an email today. An email called The Trouble Tree.

I hired a plumber to help me restore an old farmhouse, and after he
had just finished a rough first day on the job: a flat tire made him lose an
hour of work, his electric drill quit and his ancient one ton truck refused
to start.

While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, he
invited me in to meet his family. As we walked toward the front door, he
paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both
hands.

When opening the door he underwent an amazing transformation. His
face was wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave
his wife a kiss.

Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree and my
curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do
earlier.

"Oh, that's my trouble tree," he replied "I know I can't help having
troubles on the job, but one thing's for sure, those troubles don't belong
in the house with my wife and the children... So I just hang them up on the
tree every night when I come home and ask God to take care of them. Then in
the morning I pick them up again." "Funny thing is," he smiled," when I come
out in the morning to pick 'em up, there aren't nearly as many as I remember
hanging up the night before."



I remember wishing when I was small that I had “a trouble tree”. I made do. I made do with me. When you are dealing with a crazy mother as a child, at times your mind makes provisions for you in order to cope. My mind did. I grew a trouble tree in my mind.

My trouble tree had four branches. Those branches grew and enveloped me when my mind could not cope. They blanketed me in forgetfulness, darkness and like an enigma, crept back into the dark recesses of my mind when I was ready to come back to the real world.

The biggest branch had a name, Mrs. Peabody. She was the protector of me. She was me. Older.
Stronger.
Wiser.

The three smaller branches were babies. They were me too. All three. Mrs. Peabody watched over the three mini-me's. All the me's needed protection and protect me they did.



Sometimes I would loose time. I remember going away and then just coming back and it was about 2 weeks later than I last remember. This happened from time to time. I can hear Mrs. Peabody's voice coming from my mouth as I watched as an infant with the other 2. We watched her protect us from the storm that was my mother. She was the shelter against the storm. When the storm was over she would gather us in front of her, just the three of us and talk and teach and tell us it would be okay. She taught us what to do to survive. Mrs. Peabody had a bun, wore glasses and floral clothes. She was warm and comforting. She was love.



What was once five is now one. Integrated. All the personalities are now one.

No longer shattered. No longer splintered.

We are one.

In sync, in one time, one strength.

One.





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