Your cart is currently empty!
Branches of Memory: A Tale of Friendship and Loss
By Harry Watts
Branches of Memory: A Tale of Friendship and Loss
Two elderly men, Walter and Ernie, walked slowly down the familiar trail leading to the lake, passing the old oak tree that had stood there, gnarled and twisted by time, much like themselves. No one knew its age; it was old when the men were young. The tree seemed to remember them, its huge limbs reaching out in greeting, beckoning them closer.
They stopped, and memories of the tree and how their lives had intertwined with it flooded their minds.As boys, they had spent countless hours playing in its branches—pirates defending their ship, Robin Hood fighting the Sheriff of Nottingham, Peter Pan harassing Captain Hook.Lost in their adventures, the color of their skin was never an issue.The fact that Walter was white and Ernie black didn’t matter to the two friends who roamed the high seas, hid out in Sherwood Forest, or traveled to Neverland together. But as time passed and the boys grew older, the color of their skin came between them, and the tree assumed a different role in their lives.
For Walter, the sight of the tree stirred many pleasant memories. He had experienced his first kiss under its overhanging branches on a hot summer night and proposed to his wife on the same spot a few years later. His mother had taken prom and graduation pictures there, and later, wedding photographs. He had brought his son and, later, his grandson to watch, through tear-filled eyes, as the tree seemed to reach out and embrace the boys, inviting them to “come on board,” for there were battles to fight and wars to be won. The day his wife died, he had come here and, leaning against the trunk, cried his heart out. The tree had consoled him and seemed to join in his grief.
For Ernie, the tree inspired memories as well.One memory in particular haunted him as he stared at the tree.He remembered another hot summer night when men dressed all in white had crashed into his home and dragged his father to this tree, where they hung him on that very limb right there.Along with his mother, Ernie had been forced to watch, to “teach him his place.”His mother was later beaten unconscious and left to die there alongside her husband, swaying in the wind.
Ernie had never returned to the tree after that and had never seen Walter again until today.The men recognized each other right away and, after a few minutes of reminiscing, decided to take the walk that brought them to the oak tree.Two men, at the end of life’s journey, returned to a place of shared experience but with very different memories
As they stood before the ancient oak, the weight of their shared past and divergent experiences hung heavy in the air Walter broke the silence, his voice tinged with sorrow.
Ernie, I had no idea what happened to your family. I can’t fathom the pain you’ve endured.”
Ernie’s eyes remained fixed on the limb that had once borne such horror.”It’s not something easily spoken of, Walter. This tree… it holds too many ghosts.”
Walter placed a trembling hand on Ernie’s shoulder “I wish I could change the past, erase the hurt. But standing here with you now, I hope we can find some semblance of peace.”
Ernie finally turned to face his old friend, searching his eyes for sincerity. “Perhaps, Walter. Perhaps confronting these memories together is a step toward healing.”
The two men stood side by side, the ancient oak towering above them, a silent witness to their journey from innocence to pain, and now, to a tentative reconciliation.
Leave a Reply