March 29 – “on Trees and Nana Back Eyes”

Today will be an interesting one around Gulf Village.  We are scheduled to be invaded by a large group of Aggies – Texas A&M Galveston students – who are going to be planting trees.  Some group donated a boatload of trees to the city expressly to be planted within neighborhoods on the city right of way.  In our neighborhood that means the strip of land between the sidewalk and the street.  Lots of different species.  Sycamores.  Oaks.  Magnolias.  Anacuas.  Like how I slipped that last one right in there with the old favorites?  I’d never heard of it either.  So that’s the one we picked.  Supposed to be some kind of fruit tree that you can make jam out of. 

Several weeks ago they walked around and put up yard signs, asking if we would commit to taking care of a tree if it was planted for us on the site.  Many responded and the trees were delivered to a local park yesterday.  That’s when I got a phone call to see if they could borrow my truck to make some deliveries.  Sensing an opportunity to fulfill a civic duty, I drove over and loaded up the truck.  Twice.  It was a lot easier to unload than it was to lift the trees onto the truck bed.  Especially when the cavalry arrived to ride with me on my final trip.  Bryan was a big help unloading and placing the trees on their designated sites.  The group is supposed to stage on 40 Steps (the vacant lot next door), so I expect them to be knocking on my door any minute to start setting up.  I have their table and some of the snacks they are offering the workers.  Bring ‘em on.

I have to add an anecdote before I sign off.  The other day Chris got a text from Christina.  You might remember her as the mother of the Incredible Hulk.  His secret identity, though would be three-year-old Josiah, the mild-mannered, blonde-haired bundle of sweetness who melts your heart with a quick smile and a ready hug.  The text was to notify Chris of his latest pronouncement.  Something along the lines of “Nana knows everything.”  Boy did you ever get that right, Josiah.  Nanas are like that.  It kind of goes with those mysterious eyes in the back of their heads that are issued to every mother when their first child is born.  Unlike everything else on the body, though, those back eyes get sharper and keener as the Nana gets older and older.  It’s a frightening experience.  Begins as awe-inspiring for the youngsters.  Extremely frustrating and irritating for teenagers.  Downright amusing for us old-timer DadDads. 

Psalms 96:11-12 says, “Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let the sea resound, and all that is in it; let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them.  Then all the trees of the forest will sing for joy.”

Father, you are the maker of trees and Nanas and wonderfully mysterious back eyes.  Thank you for caring what happens in the strange world of yours.  Amen.