My entire extended family in Oklahoma, except my sister Kendra (last I heard, anyway), is without power. Some of them are toughing it out in their freezing cold houses to take care of pets, some of them moving around like vagabonds. I can’t talk to them because most of them don’t have working phones right now. I’m really worried about my dad in Owasso, but his phone isn’t working, and I don’t have his cell phone number. I’m sure he’s fine, but I’m also really worried about his trees. That must sound very odd, but I am. My dad has spent two decades growing and pruning all these beautiful trees in his yard. It’s been a hobby of his for as long as I can remember–taking care of his yard. My mom says all the trees in their yard, these beautiful, old, strong trees–they’re destroyed, some of them even split right down the middle. Trees whose branches my children have swung on, trees that have shaded us from the scorching Oklahoma heat. As I watch the news, I see all these images of these magnificent trees falling to the ground. It’s hard to explain, but even all the way over here, in the (kerosene) warmth of my home surrounded by spectacular flourescent trees, I’m so affected by what’s happening to our trees in Oklahoma. I mean, I live in Japan, but those are still my trees. Does anyone hear me? I think it’s something deep and spiritual, but I can’t quite put my finger on it (which is why I’m blogging about trees, in hopes that I will be able to work this out…) I’m so humbled and saddened to see these mighty, beautiful trees bow down and break, under the pressure of just a little too much water that’s just too heavy. Today, for the first time in years, I cried because I want to be in Oklahoma so bad right now. That must sound crazy. But today it feels particularly horrible to be thousands of miles away from my family and friends, and those trees.
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