Yesterday I had a sudden revelation…I hate The Giving Tree!
That’s right. The whimsical, childhood classic that makes any adult with a sou,l who has EVER used ANYTHING made out of wood, feel like a total, complete piece of heartless crap? Yeah. THAT one.
For starters, each and every time I read it to the offspring, I ended up crying like a friggin’ baby. Why? Because The Boy was all about HIS wants and HIS needs. What about the wants and needs of the poor tree!?! I mean, it gave and gave and in the end what did it get for all its love and selflessness? The Boy’s ass in its face, THAT’S what. (Or at least, what was left of its face, because it had given THAT much!)
OK, there REALLY was a point to my going on a mini-rant about a fictitious, codependent tree. The point, my friends, is GUILT!
I’ve mentioned before that I live in the sticks, surrounded on three and ½ sides by trees. And this weekend? We were forced to make what for me was an incredibly PAINFUL decision; we’re selling some of our trees.
First off, you have to understand that I LOVE our trees. Living in what was once my Grandparent’s house, I’ve known these guys my whole life. Also, I was permanently scarred by The Giving Tree, but I’m pretty sure you got that fact a few paragraphs back.
“Then WHY,” you ask, “are you selling them?” Because getting sick turns out to be an expensive thing to do. And I have managed to come to one, small understanding about my woody friends; money doesn’t grow on them.
By selling somewhere around 30 trees, we’ll be able to pull our home out of Foreclosure, keep the Water and Electric turned on, and still manage to eat. If I hadn’t drug my feet so darned long about the whole thing, probably allowing the bottom to drop out of the Wood Industry (he he, I said “wood”) we might even have had enough left over to get the timing belt/chain/whichever-it-is fixed on our Explorer.
But the Explorer will have to wait at this point. (Which I am TOTALLY blaming on Giving-Tree-induced guilt!)
Yeah, part of my recent anxiety has been the fact that applying for SSD is NOT an overnight thing. There’s also a pretty good possibility I’ll be denied first time out and have to start the process all over again. (With the added aid of a Lawyer, of course.)
Meanwhile, when a two-income home drops to a one-income domicile, with about a million medical and test fees added into the equation, and the offspring continue to function under the belief that three meals a day is the norm, bills start to pile up like a Leaning Tower of “OH SHIT!”
I swear, at this point, not only is the whiny Tree on my “List of People With Which I Wish To Have a Stern Talking To” (because a “Hit List” would be COMPLETELY illegal!) but whoever the putz was that said, “The best things in life are free,” has also secured him/herself a spot of honor. (OK LOVE, which is definitely one of the BEST things in life, may be free, but the food to keep that loved one alive is not. So I’m thinking I win here…)
What’s the moral of today’s circular tangent? Guilt SUCKS and is, without a flippin’ doubt counter productive, even though those of us who end up choosing the path of chronic illness tend to be riddled with it. Oh wait! We DIDN’T choose this. Therefore, it’s NOT our fault. (Lightbulb moment!)
Also? The Giving Tree is responsible for an entire generation of people who would rather let things reach Critical Mass, financially speaking, than sell a few trees. Because Trees have feeling too. (Or maybe that last one is just my personal hang-up?)