Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #8 - The tree removal story.

Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #8 The tree removal story.

Hi Mom,

Before I share more about the Memorial service, I want to share more about something that happened last week just like I would if I had called you on the phone as I did practically every day for the last five years.

Last Wednesday, an hour before I was going to teach a particularly difficult class online, tree service persons with huge trucks, a hydraulic lift, and a wood chipper/shredder arrived to remove a tree that stands (or did) literally about 20 feet from my office window.

It was a cool day, so I had all the windows open, but even with the windows shut, just the sound of the trucks, the chain saws, and the chipper was so loud that I could barely hear myself think let alone speak for an hour to students about literature.

I lost my temper in a big way, and so it was a good thing that no one was home. Through some miracle of self-restraint, I did not smash anything, though it's also a fortunate thing that I was not holding a baseball bat.

I am not even sure if my neighbor was home; I was tempted to call and express my feelings about the timing of this tree removal. After all, it was just that hour from 10-11 a.m. Wednesday morning. Any other time would have been all right. I would have been annoyed by the sounds at any time but not insanely enraged as I was when I had to teach that class accompanied by the din of tree removal.

I thought of you, then, Mom. You were big on the Golden Rule. I would not like an enraged phone call from anyone, and so I did make one to my neighbor. After all, my neighbor may not have scheduled that specific time for the tree removal. And even if she did, it may not have occurred to her to check with me, not knowing that if I was scheduled to teach when the tree was due to be removed, I would have left the house and taught elsewhere rather than enduring the cacophony produced by the all the machines.

Then again, I could not let the injustice of this event pass undocumented, and because social media allows for these declarations, I sent the following to Twitter, which also posts on Facebook:

Okay, I know. Pissy and dramatic. Kind of ridiculous, really. So then, a few second later, I sent and posted the following:

Fair, right? My reaction was proportional to my emotional state last week, which was a bit like being filled to bursting with the Power Cosmic (I had to get a comic book simile in here somewhere).

Yeah... so it was all right. I moved my lap top to the dining room, and though still very loud, the chainsaws and shredder were a bit less deafening with me in there. And the workers did their job quickly and without a lot of shouting. By the time I was done teaching, the tree was gone, the trucks were gone, and it was over.

And I felt a bit like an ass, especially since that tree may have actually been on OUR property, and both the tree and the half-tree-sized branch that the previous storm had brought down (see photos), nearly missing her roof (a new roof, too) may have been OUR responsibility, legally speaking.

AND, at the time, she may not have known that my Mom just died. So there's that, too.

Last night, I decided to share this blog entry as today's post. I had sketched it a few days back, and I wanted to take a break from the excessive weight of grief and the tear-jerking content that has been and will be posted, especially as I work through the Memorial Service stuff.

So what happens while I am teaching today? This same neighbor brings over a lovely sympathy card and a tin of treats. You know what the treats are? NUTS. Spiced nuts! Get it? Tree = nuts?

Yeah, so now I have a thank you to deliver as I am very touched and blessed by her kindness and love. I also feel like MORE of an ass (which I did not think was possible) for my rage of last week.

So, there, that's a thing.

ABOUT THE PHOTOS: The three tree photos on today's blog show the post-storm, half-tree branch in front of our neighbor's house from back in early June. She had that all removed weeks ago. The tree I am writing about is in the foreground-right of the picture directly below (tree photo #2). Apparently, tree experts felt that the whole thing should be removed before a storm brought down the rest of it on my neighbor's roof.... I am guessing...

Bye, Mom. More tomorrow.

Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.
Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.

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- Days ago = 09 days ago
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1507.13 - 12:05