Family ties and apple trees

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Family ties and apple trees

March 19, 2017 by The Minnesota Farm Woman

Long long ago, when the thought of being a real Farm Woman was just a twinkle in my eye, we would visit my aunt and uncle’s farm in Michigan’s upper peninsula. Uncle Al always had plenty of advice and rules, the most important of which was not to eat the apples from the sour apple tree which grew next to the farm house. “You will get a bellyache for sure!” he warned us every visit. My cousin and I were not always known to be listeners or even rule followers, so we always climbed high up into the branches and ate as many of those apples as we dared. They were not even that good, but the thought of going against the rules seemed to sweeten them up a bit. Sure enough, by early evening, we would be holding our bellies and head to bed early, only to be giggling later with flashlights under the covers well into the night. We loved the times with our family at the big farmhouse table, passing around good food and listening to three different conversations going on at the same time. Fast forward a few years…well, more than a few years. Funny, or maybe not so funny, we are now the older generation. The earlier generations are sadly missed, and yet there are new faces around the table that we couldn’t imagine being without. The branches of the family continue to grow, just as the branches of that apple tree of long ago. The farm has been sold, so we now gather around a different family table, passing plates of delicious food. There are still three different conversations going on at once, so things don’t change much. Dear Uncle Al is 96 and in a nursing home, the last of the generation. He is not able to join us any more, and for that, we are sad, so we visited him with all the latest news. He sits quietly with his eyes closed, biding his time, and not saying much except to wonder why I didn’t bring my dad with me, forgetting that he has been gone for many years. He listened as Caroline, his great-granddaughter and I played the piano and to the sweet old woman who sang along to the songs even though she couldn’t remember the words. She didn’t care, and neither did we. I did get a small glimmer of the old days when I spoke to him of farm days, apple trees, and bellyaches. Remembering, he opened his eyes, laughed, and said “The years sure go by, don’t they?” Yes, Uncle. Yes, they do.

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Family ties and apple trees

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Family ties and apple trees

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