The first thing you should know is that many years ago my sisters and I nicknamed my Dad, Ranger Gene.  This was not some random name noooo,…. my Dad can name almost any bird, tree or rock formation.  Our vacations as kids were to all the national parks to “see the scenery”.  Well when you’re 8 or 9 years old, one tree/canyon, national park looks pretty much like the next.  It used to drive him crazy that we weren’t soaking up nature and we’d rather stay in the hotel room and play.

Now Dad liked to bring that “Ranger Gene” spirit and apply it at home. As far back as I can remember he had a green thumb and  would grow trees from acorns, flowers from seeds.  As a matter of fact, most of the landscaping around my parent’s house is something that Dad has grown from infancy.  One of his prize plants was an oak tree that he planted in the front yard some 32 years ago.  This tree truly started from an acorn.  It grew every year as Dad carefully tended to it.  It grew to be a big beautiful mighty oak  that provided a ton of shade.  I have alot of memories of playing in that tree and later, Mom and I sitting under the tree talking about life and all those “bumps” in the road I seem to hit. That tree was the personficiation of home for me.

You’ll notice that I said “was”.  Last week Dallas had a record snowfall.  As a matter of fact we had more snow in a single day than we’ve had ever.  The snow was wet, white and beautiful but, as I was to find out later, for Dad’s oak it was deadly.  As the snow melted, Dad was out checking his “mighty oak” and noticed that it had a large split at the main “v” in the trunk.  With sadness he delivered the news to my Mom that the tree had to come down.  She called me and we all had a good cry.

Crying over a tree.  I’m sure alot of people will think that’s a little weird (frankly when I think about it, it’s a little weird).  I mean seriously, who cries over a tree.  I can tell you that I never thought I would.  Never say never.  So, my sympathies to Ranger Gene and RIP Mighty Oak.  Gone but not forgotten.