Sunday, March 4, 2012

Holding Fast

I married a McLeod.

It’s a package deal, marriage. You take them, they take you. If life smiles on you, it’s a Christmas package.

I sit here on their porch, soaking in the view of blooming pink azaleas, quenching my thirst for color in huge draughts only desert dwellers can understand. The awning window cranked open refreshes me with the whisper of swooning tree branches and cool, Gulf breezes. For over a hundred years this house and these trees have communed here together. Giant Live Oaks which tower above the hand laid brick patio and two story home--four ancient trees with a combined breadth that covers a quarter of an acre. They link arms in protection above the family who has lived here for more than forty of those years. Never once brought down by hurricanes or tornadoes, they’ve bent but never fallen.

This morning a new storm ravages both hearts and landscape. But the branches, iced with dripping Spanish Moss, nod in my direction, wise and experienced. They've withstood many storms together, this family and these oaks. Linked arms. Deep roots. Calm countenance. Here they raised and released a family, loved and laughed through more than fifty-nine years of marriage, and sipped coffee as they observed the ever changing tide of new neighbors who don’t realize they’re living next to royalty.

I marvel at their courage and strength, these Scottish pillars, and how they hold fast. They made room for me in the family circle, and I am forever humbled by my good fortune.

Many are proud to say they rub shoulders with these McLeods.

I am one of them.

2 comments:

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    1. You noticed a consistent reference to my favorite coffee hang out, huh? :)

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