treehome





Sara stared, chin in hand, out of the kitchen window at the autumnal beauty of massive oak in the corner of the yard. Though the neighboring pine boughs had almost obscured her view she could still see the grey shingles and the topmost three rungs of the treehouse ladder nestled within the flaming oak. Making this silent, visual connection had become a part of her daily routine, her touchstone. With all of the changes going on her life it was nice to have this sturdy, familiar constant.


“What’cha looking at?” his voice startled her and make her jump a little. It was her husband, Dan. She was still getting used to the fact of his being home during the day, courtesy of recent layoffs at the plant.


“The leaves are really beautiful this year, she sighed. And that oak never disappoints, it really is a showstopper.”


Dan stroked his chin and squinted at the view as if he were viewing abstract art at a gallery.


“Guess I’ll have plenty of time to rake the leaves during the week, but ya know what? That’ll really free up my weekends.”


That’s just like Dan, thought Sara. Look for that silver lining, tie it up in a bow and pin it to my chest. When “Dont Worry Be Happy” came out Sara was sure Bobby McFerrin had met and was inspired by Dan.


“It’s probably about time I take down that treehouse, too,” he stated matter of factly while putting on water for tea.


“What? Sara croaked hoarsely, waking herself up out of thought, you can’t do that, Dan.”


“Why? The kids haven’t been in it for years, and our baby is starting college next year.”


“I just… and just then Sara realized she had no ammunition from the children to finish her sentence,  I just still need it, Dan, please don’t take it down, not yet, please, Dan.”


Dan saw the honest need in Sara’s face and couldn’t help but hug her.
“Ok, babe the treehouse is safe”
And with those words Sara let go and sobbed into Dan’s shoulders.
“Babe? Awww… I didn’t realize, Dan hugged Sara tighter, treehouse is safe, Babe…


the treehouse is safe.”


Rene ~ 2010

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15 thoughts on “treehome

  1. The treehouse I grew up in sat vacant for many years after I had outgrown it. Years after I had moved out of my parent's home, a storm blew the tree down, and when I saw the splintered remains of my old treehouse lying there in pieces on the ground, it was like losing a part of my soul.

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