I live on part of my family's homestead. On March 16, 1909 my great-grandfather came to the United States through Ellis Island. He left behind, in Germany his wife and two sons with the promise that when he found work and made a home he would send for them. Apparently, he had no intentions of ever sending for them. Two years later in 1911, having lost one son, my great-grandmother packed up what she could in a large basket, boarded the boat, came here, found his sorry ass, took up the homestead with him and had nine more kids!!! (I come from a feisty bunch for sure)
Not only did she bring with her her son, she also brought a loving heart, the patience of a saint, work ethics beyond reproach, recipes we still use today and this apple tree.
Not my children, myself or my mother can ever recall life without apples from this tree. When my mother was a girl there were no freezers.... so it was simply the fruit of the season. Being that this tree bears fruit only every other year she would have quite the wait to taste it's sweetness. I and my children on the other hand were raised in an era where freezers existed... and every other year during apple season, we pick, we peel, we cook, we grind... and in the end... make enough apple sauce to last us two years time... plus a good number of apple crisps and a few meals of apples and noodles. When we get truly sick... it is the only thing that we can eat which, brings us back to good health. Once my mother had to sneak some of it into the hospital for me as I could keep nothing else down... over night, I was amazingly better and ready to go home.
A few years back (although the tree sits on my property) my great-uncle, the last one of his generation, decided the tree needed to be pruned while I was at work!!! He is 92, no one tells him what he can and cannot do... unfortunately he took branches that I had been so lovingly encouraging to bear fruit.
The tree has now been here for 98 years. It is dying. Insects are boring into it's bark. Squirrels or some creature has made a home in it's heartwood... the scat lies at the base of the tree. The bark is falling off exposing the life giving cambian layer. Large branches have gone lifeless from tent caterpillars, yet I would not dare cut them from the tree lest it leave it so unbalanced it would break from the weight.
My eldest son has tried everything from taking its seeds to grafting branches to trying to generate root growth .... but nothing has worked.
Each fall as the leaves drop to the ground I wonder if it will be the last year for apples.... and each spring I patiently await some sign of life that just perhaps I might be granted one more year of sweetness.
Like the feisty old broad who brought the tree to America, it is pushing forth life, yet again. One only need look up at the branches against the sky to see the small buds pushing out from the tips. In a few short weeks it will be teaming with flowers waiting on the bees to pollinate them. And I will stand ready to pick, peel, cook and grind....
I wonder if Great-Grammy ever imagined that four generations later she would still be nurturing her offspring?
7 comments:
what a great story!
and lovely blossoms too i might add!
Thank you KK... after I finished writing this piece I thought about all that this tree has seen in it's life.... the road use to be small and made of dirt, it was home base for many a baseball games and has witnessed more little ones grow into adults than I can count.... I love my tree!!! :)
This is an interesting story of sort of how you and the Apple tree came to be. I’m not sure about your grandfather’s intentions. Maybe when he left Germany those were his intentions yet the multiplicity of factors that occur over time made it impossible for him to send back for her? Hell, he had 9 kids with her…he must have liked her a little bit. Maybe he just needed a couple more years to get things just right.
I guess it wouldn’t have mattered whether or not you were at work or not since nobody tells your uncle what he can and cannot do…he kinda sounds like me…but I can be persuaded…just not told.
The metaphor might be you and the tree eh?
All and all a nostalgic recount of an important and natural symbol in your families lives.
46
46.. I'm glad you enjoyed the story. I'm rather certain about his intentions... or the lack thereof... as for the 9 more kids... he needed farm hands and it was much easier to just grow your own!!
Had I been home, and not at work, I would have done my best to explain to my uncle why certain branches needed to stay and others needed to go...
As for you being like him.... I think not... YOU require far too much coddling!!! :) Although, you do like to bark orders at Redirt...and the waitress at the restaurant did call you old... so okay... maybe there is a slight resemblance!!!
oh what a rich history. what a tremendous blessing to have passed down through generations. i so hope that you'll continue to enjoy the tree and it's fruit a long while but if it's life is not to continue i hope perhaps you know a fine carpenter or artist who could fashion something beautiful from its wood to continue to pass down in the family.
Lime... I absolutely LOVE your idea of crafting something from the wood left behind!!! If it does not all rot on me you can be assured I will create something!!!! Thank you!!!
ah, so glad you like the idea. i suggested it because when the biggest tree on my great grandmother's property had to be taken down after 3 generations had enjoyed its shade my mother save a large disk of the trunk to use as a seat in her garden. i liked that idea but i think a bit of craftsmanship applied would be even lovelier. glad i could inspire you that way. makes me smile to think you'll be able to enjoy it for a long time to come in one way or another.
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