The Cherry Tree

The static in the air entered my finger tips & settled itself in my bowels. It wrapped it's buzzing tentacles around my lungs & slowly squeezed. "Whats wrong now?" I mumbled.



The static was a constant in my life. I don't remember the day it entered me, but I did recognise it began to swell bigger & take over my body around the time I was 8 years old. Maybe that was the age I became aware that I was different from the other kids. I was slow in school. I struggled under the weight of the demands. I became aware that OTHER people knew I was different. I had my first panic attack when I was 10...4th grade (remind me to tell you all of the hell I endured durning that time...it was awesome) I was also 10 when my mom was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer (aggressive as in "Dr. was a sh%$head & didn't recognise that the HUGE lump in my moms breast was cancer." Another story for another time...just as awesome)



But there was the static. That day....me being a few months shy of 12 years old, it hummed so loud I clapped my hands over my ears. I became detached from the ground & I couldn't feel my steps, even though they were heavy as I paced my room. I felt "off" all day. It had been a sunny, happy day. Why now? What's...wrong?

Mom picked me up from the sitters after work. I could feel her...drain me...as she looked at me & smiled "how was your day Honey?" Static begins to now build in my throat. "fine, mom." But all I can think is...let me go...I can't breath.



I run when I get home. Sometimes I can run from it...the static trailing behind me. I run to the creek. I run to the garden field, the house, the driveway, the sunken garden. My Dad is home...I breath. He smells like heavy equipment oil. I love that smell. But he even...drains me. The static returns w/ thud as I stop. We collide. Damn it...what's wrong?

Moms says "Sweetie, come to my room after your father changes clothes. I need to tell you something. Ok? Ok Baby"

Slam, slam, slam....my heart pounds against my chest. My arm pits shake. I taste acid. I'm in my room. I don't remember how I got there. I'm on my knees in front of my window. I focus on the cherry tree. Pink & soft. God is in my wild cherry tree.





Does God live? I did not know. As my Mom became sick...then sicker...& really super duper sick, I didn't pray. But then I felt, well maybe I should give this thing a shot. I offered up a thanks to whoever would listen. Thanks for the good days with my mom. Thanks for my dog & gerbil. I remember feeling stupid kneeling & praying.

Soon, I became more comfortable talking to God. It did bother me that I didn't know where God was. I had friends & family of different religions. Everyone told me what, where & who God was. At first I felt I was praying all wrong. Trying to conform to what other people believed. Finally out of frustration...... I turned to the cherry tree. That was where my God lived. Forever in a wild blooming cherry tree.


Comfortable with my idea of God, I look at the tree & begin to talk. To this day, I will never forget the time God talked to me. Never forget the day that we made a deal. The day he gave me mercy. And mercy for my mother.



"God, somethings wrong cuz it won't let go of me today. It's really bad. Can you help me?"



I stay on my knees, happy to be hypnotised by the swaying tree.


Hours, days, months go by. (I'm 11.5 years old....5 minutes is a life time!)


The static drains out my bare toes & melts into my light green carpet. For the first time today, I can breath.





"Ah, there you are God. You are there right? Am I talking to a tree? I don't care if I am. I feel better."





And then.





I feel it. As plain as day. I understand what is happening. I feel the future. And for some reason, I'm not shock. (again... 11.5 yrs old. faith of a child)





Silence broken by my mother "Jenny, can you come to my room now, we're ready!" Yeah Mom, give me a sec!





"Oh gosh, yeah, THAT'S what is wrong! Ok...I got to make this quick. Ummmmm, gosh. Let me think."





God lets me think





"GOT IT! Ok...I need your help. Ok God, I know what's happening. Did you tell me? If you did, thanks...if not....then I'm psychic...cool. Ok, a few weeks ago Mom went to the Dr. to find out if her cancer had gone to her bones. Do you remember? If it went to her bones she would die...like soon. I bet you anything she just heard back from them. Did they call? When did Mom find out? Anywho. i know what they told her. I feel it.





They told her it's bad. It's in the bone. She will be dying soon.





Here's where you come in ok? I know they told her it's in the bone. Let them say it's in the bone BUT let it not be true. Even though they will all believe she has bone cancer...let it not be true. Let it be a mistake. Ok?"





I'm still in front of the window, but I have been pacing. Scheming with God who's in my cherry tree excites me! As I happily pace. I feel...





"ok."








"Thanks God, your the best. But now can you help me to act sad, cuz I just might burst out & tell my mom & that might ruin everything!"





So off I go down the hall to my parents room. I open their door & find them solemn. Sitting side by side on the bed. My heart hurts for her. But I can't tell her my plan.


She tells me to sit by her. I feel like I'm in a after school special. It's all so cheesy. I just about laugh at loud at the absurdity of it all. I play into it. I relax. I try to will my warmth & strength into my mother as she readies to tell me a painful truth...which I know to be a mistake.


Without tears or even so much as a quivering lip she says words no mother should ever have to speak to her child.





"Jenny, it's in my bones, the cancer. They have given me 6 months at the most. I won't be here for Christmas."





We talked for a bit about how hateful bone cancer was. Then I hopped off her bed & walked to my room. I did my best to look crushed, but I had a big smile on my face. I got to my window & did a high five by myself. God & I did it! All would be well.

For about 1 year after that day on her bed, my Mother endured more cancer hell. WE endured cancer hell.





Then








She got slightly better. Tests were taken. Then the words.

"We are so sorry Gail. We don't know what happened. We must have read your x-rays wrong. All the coughing you did all those years cracked your ribs. (my mom coughed non stop for 5 years. I think it had something to do w/ the cancer/meds/illness/arthritis. ) We must have read those healed cracks as bone cancer. You don't have bone cancer. You'll live."





She lived 1 year without cancer.





When the year ended, her cancer returned.





Life went on. The months went by. 1, 2 years? It became a blur of living. Some days were heart breaking, others were filled with fun & happiness.



She died on a beautiful windy July day. And on that day, I physically felt the static rise from the bottom of my feet, wander up through my body, stopping at my shoulders. I felt it crouch down hard, then in an instant it sprang from me. The crushing weight I had carried all those years left me. I still suffer from anxiety, but not like the heart wrenching, bone crushing, vomit inducing static I had before. I am grateful I had it, because if I never would have felt it, I never would have appreciated it leaving me.














One day in spring, when the wild cherry tree was in full bloom, God granted a young girl her wish. "Make it be a mistake. Work with me on this one God. Please?" He granted her a glimpse into the future. He allowed her to have a bit of control of her careening, plummeting life. He even allowed her mom to have a breather from the cancer. That day was a gift for me and a tragedy for my mom. I hope now God has let her in on our little plan! I hope she can forgive me for not including her. I do regret that. It would have been nice to share it with her. I hope she won't spank me for being so...well...childish when I see her again.

God gave me that gift freely. I just simple asked. It was very sweet of Him. And the only thing I felt he asked for in return, was to etch this experience on my soul.



To my God in the cherry tree, I have etched it. Forgive me for allowing the dust of my life to settle into the deep cracks. I will remember.