The Pear Tree

Our house is next to a vacant lot. Some years ago, they tore down the house that stood there. When they tore down the house, they left the vegetation, including a pear tree.

The pear tree has some dangerous-looking dead branches, but mostly, it's a vibrant tree. Each spring, the leaves bud, then the tree blossoms, then the pears start growing. No one tends to the tree. It just goes about its business. It goes through its life cycle, year after year. The tree doesn't need encouragement, accolades or coaxing to bear fruit; it just does. We pick the pears when they are ripe, and enjoy the sweet fruit, juice-drenched chins and all.

Seeing the tree today, I noticed the pearlets growing. Is pearlets a word?

Anyway, I was thinking about how the tree just does what trees do, without any outside assistance, save for the wildlife doing what the wildlife does. Then, for a nanosecond, I thought I'd like to be that tree. Just doing its thing, day after day, year after year. But people are different. We all have our routines, idiosyncrasies and quirks, but rare is the person who never needs to be tended.

Don't we all need tending once in a while? Laughter with people we love, hugs, tears, music...don't all those things feed our souls? I enjoy my own company, and I sometimes need to be alone, but I wouldn't wish to live in isolation all the time. Now that I think of it, even the tree gets human contact at least once a year when we pick the fruit. I joke about not liking people, but the truth is, I generally do like people.

It's a good thing I've decided I like people, because as I'm finding out, it's really best not to be alone, just me and my MS. You have, for whatever reason, decided to come along on my journey, and I'm happy to have the company.

Later on this summer, we'll pick pears.