This past weekend, I was in Tulsa and drove down the street of my childhood neighborhood. A large ponderosa pine appeared on the horizon. It was evening so the angle of the sun allowed it to cast exaggerated shadows on the ranch home nestled under its feathered needles. The quaint little home was still dressed in used brick and rough siding. While I traced the familiar outlines of the windows, porch, steps and cedar roof shingles, streams of days gone by flooded my mind. Up and down those stairs I climbed as a younger me.
I saw a boy riding his bike down the driveway. It was a ghost of my childhood laughing and remembering the fun under that towering ponderosa pine. Neighborhood kids joined in, all trying to outdo each other, maybe by jumping the ramp propped up next to the pine or besting each other in a comical race to the finish line.
A small mark on the ponderosa pine reminded me of the time my sister and I would jump on a sled and slide down the snow-covered driveway, many times barely missing the tree. And yes, there was that one time when hands and feet were numb from the cold and steering was such a challenge that we hit it head on and tumbled into the nearby snowdrift. Whether that old ponderosa ever forgave us or not, I’ll never know but I couldn’t help but reach out and give it an apologetic pat and thank it for the memories.
That old ponderosa has seen a thing or two. It stands proudly, greeting neighborhood residents and visitors every day. It even welcomes home old ones like me. It was here when I was nothing more than cosmic dust and a dream and will likely still be here when I return to that dust. Echos of future dreams and ghosts of the past dance around that evergreen memorial. I can’t help but smile and feel a tear of joy mingled with grief. Life goes by so fast. Moments become memories and memories become whispers singing softly through the ponderosa pine.
A trip back home can be rejuvenating and emotional. This past weekend reminded me of the preciousness of our days, the blessing of our memories and the power of place to stir our hearts to gratefulness. When you get a chance to go back home or visit the memorials of your life you leave along the way, don’t forget to stop and reflect. Ponder at the ponderosa and let the whispers of your past fill your soul with gratitude, memories of your unique and precious journey and those golden dreams of futures yet to be had.
The Ponderosa bids you pleasant memories and happy trails ahead.
