The tree fell on my car. It is a Monday morning. I am dressed but have not made coffee yet and decide to let in the cat. Miss Heidi likes to stay outside when there is a full moon. Something doesn’t look right. Wait, no. Something looks wrong, would be more accurate. The tree fell on my car.
The tree. I live in a condo in the South and to shade my parking space was a maple tree. It was a hard decision to buy a place but the maple tree was a reminder of home and going to the maple syrup farms on field trips as a kid and loving maple sugar candy. Sorry, I am not a maple syrup fan in and of itself. I don’t like any saucy slimy things on my food. Never any mayo or miracle whip. Mustard and ketchup are used only sparingly. Plain is usually best. If I get chicken nuggets, yes, I am an adult and eat chicken nuggets, get over it. If I get chicken nuggets you will barely be able to tell that I used any dipping sauce.
So the condo had a maple tree. A pretty ugly, badly trimmed, riddled with holes maple tree. A tree that lived mostly in the shadow of a huge Oak tree whose roots occupied all the space between the two buildings. But it reminded me of upstate NY and home and Lisa’s maple and Grandma’s Japanese maple and home. I planted the bush I was given at Dad’s funeral underneath it. And then when it died, I bought another one and actually watered it this time. But it fell over. It broke off at the roots and just tipped over onto my car. I believe it happened early Monday morning. A large crash that shook the condo woke me at 2:00 but I went back to sleep. It was the noise of the loudest door slam you ever heard, but it wasn’t followed by yells or obscenities so I fell back to sleep. Living in a condo makes for a series of drama unfolding around one nonstop.
So, I opened the door and there was the tree. My maple on my car. What to do. Ah, my cell is charged, that’s a plus. Text someone at work that I will be late. (Text didn’t go through, but I didn’t find that out until later.) Call car insurance company. Take lots of pictures. Keep circling the car. Maybe I could pull forward? Well, if the sidewalk and building weren’t in the way and the weight of the whole tree wasn’t resting on the trunk. Thankfully I was too chicken to try that. Neighbors leave for work. No advice. I understand, they don’t want to be late. I see someone I work with putting out the garbage so beg a ride. And I am even on time.
Before giving up at being productive at work and begging a ride home, I find a guy with a chain saw, who magically attracts neighbor with better chain saw and in the rain they free my car from the poor rotted out tree. It still looks wrong when I drive in or look outside. I miss my tree.