A Bonsai Tree

When I think of family trees, I think of generations of loved ones passing on words of wisdom and stories of love and magic. If there is a lineage to who I am as a person and some insight into why I am musically inclined and allergic to crab, I haven't found it. I am the spitting image of my Mom, right down to the core; except nobody knows where my nose came from. As I build my own family and think about adding to the limbs, I want to reflect on the family that made me who I am today and the family that opened their arms and placed me into their tree.

Both of my Grandads are rambunctious and I doubt they have ever had a boring day in their life. My Grandad Moser found his love for whiskey at the age of twelve. I found mine at the age of fourteen in a tree house with a childhood friend before heading off to drum lessons. Grandad married my Grandmother right out of high school and she was sweet enough to put up with him until he lost his battle to alcoholism. I miss our talks about horses and dogs; sitting on the bed of his truck, sneaking nips of Jack Daniels. I think what I miss the most is his brutal honesty. When I asked him if he would ever quit drinking, he would say 'probably not'.

My Grandpa Johnson rode up on his horse to my Granny's school bus and told her to get off because he was going to marry her. She told him she wouldn't marry him unless he quit smoking. So standing in a hay field, he took his last drag. They are married to this day and if you listen closely, you can almost hear their boots dancing in rhythm across a barn floor. Of course you can also hear Grandpa telling Granny he will come back to haunt her if he is the first to go.

My parents went to the same high school in the same small town. Dad had big city dreams and enough confidence to carry him through. Mom loved horses but gave up her dream of riding in rodeos to put my Dad through law school. She loved him enough to help make his dreams come true. I like to think my parents were in love and were wishing on dreams together when I came along. Laura followed two years after me and despite my best efforts to get them to throw her away, she is still here. We had a wonderful early childhood. We were able to be kids and since we both have healthy imaginations, there was never a country we couldn't conquer or a hole we couldn't dig. Simply stated, we were happy.

I found my love for writing at an early age. My parents divorced when Laura and I were old enough to know what was happening but too young to understand. The court made us go to a counseling program called Sandcastles. Laura painted her pain away as I watched in envy. One of the counselors asked me what my hobbies were and I told her I liked to make scrapbooks of dogs and I liked to make up songs. She told me to try and write a poem. I wrote a poem about a puppy who loses her home because nobody wants her. The counselor told me it was great and that's all the inspiration I needed. I was going to be a poetry writer! Through the rest of high school, I locked myself in my bedroom every day after school and I wrote poem after poem.

When I started college, I realized how much fun it was to write short stories and analyze writers like Dante and Homer. Thus, my love for writing came full circle. English and Writing were the only classes I received A's in and where I felt most comfortable. I am thankful our parents loved us enough to get us the help we needed to cope with the divorce. Laura has gone on to pursue her love for the arts and I think we finally have an understanding for who we are as individuals. It took many tears and years of therapy but I feel as if I know my place in the world.

I used to think that since my family was broken, we weren't really a family. I felt this way when I met Clint's family. Jeff and Linda's home is tucked away in the woods and looks like something right out of a fairy tale. The first time I stepped into their home, I was flooded with warmth and the presence of love. Tyler and Aaron were little at the time and they looked at Clint like he hung the moon. They fought for his attention and I completely fell in love with them. Linda treated me like she had known me forever and we quickly bonded over books and Oprah. Jeff sat quietly in the background playing his guitar and I spent the whole weekend wondering what he was thinking!

After that weekend, I wanted so bad to be a part of that family. Of course I told Clint that on our drive back to Little Rock and he told me that family is what you make it. I did a lot of thinking and growing up over the next few months. I took on a new attitude and decided that maybe my step-dad wasn't so bad and I needed to learn to take advantage of the time I got to spend with my Dad. I couldn't change the past and I wanted my future to be warm and peaceful.

Some family trees come with broken branches and thorns that are quick to draw blood. It's what you do with those trees that define what family is. I took parts of my family tree, uprooted it, and planted it with parts of Clint's family tree and now I have a unique bonsai. It will never be perfect and I don't want it to be. I have so many colorful memories from my life that help make me who I am. I have two parents that love me, no matter what. It doesn't matter that my Dad is in prison or that my Mom is re-married. It's not necessarily a bad thing. I spend more time now than I ever have with my Dad and my Mom is truly happy. She has found new passions for hunting and fishing and for the first time in her life, she is not afraid to swim in the ocean. It's nice to see your parents happy and enjoying life.

I love my family. I love the stories behind my Grandparents and I love my parents for never giving up on Laura and I. I love my in-laws for taking the time to get to know me and for believing in Clint and I. I love my husband for showing me that I had a family all along; I just needed to learn how to nourish it.