Life by Art: Part Nine
Jesse Hulse
Oak or Maple?
Telling trees apart from one another can be done in several ways. The simplest method is looking at its leaves, then the fruit or nuts they bear, the canopy of the branches, and even after it succumbs to a chainsaw, its distinctive fragrance. And trees, if healthy and left alone, will continue to live for, sometimes, hundreds of years.
My Great-Aunt Mary was as solid as an oak — strong, resilient. She’s been gone for over 33 years at this point, but her voice and infectious laugh still resonate in my head whenever I think back on her. If you knew her, you’d know she was the backbone of the family, the last matriarch of her generation. My father’s aunt, his father’s sister. She never married to start her own branch of the family tree, but that never stopped her from holding our tree sacred. She collected, stored, and taught all things family up until the day she died — and over the years, much of what she knew passed on to me. A blessing and a burden one might say, but a responsibility nonetheless.
Most of us define our families similarly — spouse, children, parents, grandparents. Many of the folks I talk with about their own family trees, before I put them to sleep talking about mine, know very little information beyond that. And maybe it’s not that important for those who live in the present or only want to think of the future. And while I’d agree that those things take precedence, I’ve always felt the past is as equally important — not to live in it, but learn from it. To understand where things began for me, for you, for us — connecting dots, crossing t’s and all. And, not just as individuals, but as a people. Regardless of your race, religion, nationality… we’re all part of the same big tree, stemming from the same ancient roots. Okay, that was 150,000 years ago, but still.
“The one sure thing everyone has in common is the fact that we all descend from somebody before us. Each and every person has a unique family tree with thousands upon thousands of smaller twisting twigs joining one another and forming larger branches until we find that eventually we are all related to a single common ancestor.”
Those were the opening lines to a book I wrote a few years back when I began tracing my lineage through my mother’s side of the family. The introduction wasn’t religion- or science-driven, but rather based on a simple biological fact that each of us comes from a single set of parents — so on and so on back to the beginning. You may recall only a few generations, but know that it goes much farther back than that. Now, you can interpret that however you want, but it all whittles down to the same answer — we are all explicably linked to each other somewhere in this vast tree. As modern man migrated out of Africa eons ago, he evolved and formed groups according to similar beliefs, common causes, ethnicities, nationalities, and family. Family being the strongest bond that endures above all else. And, that can even expand to someone’s personal interpretation of what family means to them. And trust me, it will differ from person to person.
The last few months have been a strain on everyone. Families, friends, neighbors, work associates, and even strangers in the street have all been separated from each other to varying degrees. And it’s difficult, I know. But, in a way, this virus has united all of us against a common enemy, something that as of today, we are still learning new ways to combat. For now, trying to ward off its spread by isolating, separating, and distancing, at least until a better alternative comes along, is what we have to work with. And I realize that — the social race that we are — it goes against our human nature to do just that. We crave that companionship to be whole, to be a part of society, to work, to stay connected, to feel needed. There’s no doubt it’s a huge inconvenience right now, but it’s really not a big deal in the whole scheme of things. It sure beats the alternative, anyway.
Just remember that the shape or color of your leaf is not what’s important. Yes, there may be a few nuts among us, but nature has its way of shaking them out. The wind may knock off the weaker branches but the rain and sunshine will continue to keep the human tree nourished. We will survive this glitch, get through it together, and come out stronger on the other side.
Even separated, we are more connected than you think.
Fanny Howell by Jesse C. Hulse
® 1983 Jesse C. Hulse. All rights reserved.