The Oak tree

The physical and emotional abuse was ghastly, repulsive, and horrifying. A divorce, child abuse, drunkenness, and incest all contributed to a dreadful upbringing. 

One summer day I was walking on the nature trail. The air was moist and warm. The leaves of towering oak tress gave me shade to cool my body. I spied a sapling. I pulled it out of the ground and took it home with me.  

Feeling excited, I showed my father my new possession. I asked him if we could plant it in our yard. He said “yes.” With shovel in hand we walked to the back yard and picked a place to plant the tree. My father dug a small hole and I placed the seedling into the earth. Being ever so careful I placed loose soil around the plant. My father and I stood over the new addition to our yard and admired it. My father said “it might grow or it might not; it is up to you kid.”  

I checked on the new tree every day. I lugged water out to the back yard to water it. That summer the tree doubled its size and was very healthy before autumn and winter hit.  

That winter, I was removed from the violent people in that house.  Many years went by. I often thought of the special time my father and I had planting that tree; I also wondered if the tree had survived.  

The man has long since been dead, but the tree and the memory lives on. 

Submitted by: An Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

Tags: alcoholic home