Thor's Hammer

Ahh... childhood.

The other day I was immersed in a nice memory that turned into a sad memory.... Reliving moments... sometimes can be good...sometimes can be sad... sometimes deal with destruction.

When my mother decided to visit her sister in England, my sisters and I were sent up to Wisconsin to spend time under the watchful eye of my grandparents... my primarily Czech speaking... old world... not very Americanized....immigrant grandparents. It was an experience... both in good ways and in bad ways.... Yes, there was a cultural and generational gap there, but this is not that tale.

I remember the conversation well. My grandparents were over and speaking Czech with my mother like they always did every Sunday after the traditional Sunday meal consisting of something meatish. My mother asked, in mid Czech, "Joe, would you like your tree house to have windows?" I was caught off guard. First, this Wisconsin tree house had always been a pipe dream. There was talk from my father, but all that was ever built was a platform around an oak tree. My imagination took care of the rest. Second, it was random. "Windows?" I replied. My mother said that my grandfather had volunteered to build me a tree house while she and my father were overseas. I was going to get to help. Being that all I ever envisioned on that oak tree was a platform... and it so happened to be already there... that I never really thought of any tree house beyond that of having a very open space... and then to consider it maybe possibly having windows.... “Windows?” “Yes,” my mother spoke. “Your grandfather wants to know if you want it to have windows.” “Okay,” I said.

After it was all said and done, my tree house not only had windows, but a built in bench, table, and porch. What my grandfather built was a house that surrounded a tree. This tribute to childhood was really quite monumental, and there were times I often wished to run away to this tree house knowing full well I would be comfortable and have lots of space… and it had windows! They were real working screen windows! There was a built in bench! Oh, the adventures I had in that tree house. It was a ship… it was a boat… ancient castle…you name it… All, of which had windows.

BUT, time and porcupines … these two things can have detrimental effects on tree houses with windows built around oak trees. Needless to say, I got older, porcupines moved in, and the tree house became yet another condemned building on our Wisconsin property. When Kristopher and Cassie (nephew and niece) came into the picture, I had dreams of trying to restore the tree house for their enjoyment. Sadly, two things worked against me. One, me plus hammer plus nails? Ummm……. Well….ummmmm…. Second, didn’t have the time. When I actually decided to do something, the tree house was in such a state… the stairs going up pretty much non-existent at that time… I determined that no matter what I could possibly do, there was no way to restore the legacy that my grandfather had built for me. I, of course, was saddened. He had recently passed away at the time, and a great memory that he had given me was basically destroyed. I had failed as a grandson in keeping at least this memory alive. Armed with a sledgehammer, and like the Nordic god Thor, I swung the deadly hammer at the tree houses supports. Within minutes, what could’ve comfortably handled a family of ten, was rubble on the forest floor. That afternoon, in silence, I cut up the remnants and prepared them for summers of burning (the last was burned this year… he types as a tear goes down his cheek). It was a really nice tree house. It had been painted to match the existing cabin.

What brings this up? Again, with Thor’s hammer (a mallet this time) and a crowbar, I dismantled the nephew and niece’s tree house located at their house (the tree house came with the home.. it was one of those swing set type things… rather nice for a swing set type thing). Again, weather and time was unkind to their play thing, and the tree house of HP became slightly dangerous. The thing rocked as I climbed up to begin my demolition project.

The moment was sad… This was the second time I had to destroy childhood memories… piece by piece… bit by bit… to preserve safety, and maybe make way for a new future. So, as I dismantled the HP tree house, I was reminded of my grandfather’s tree house and of my grandfather… It was rather a sad affair.

ON the plus side of things, there is something rather therapeutic about destruction and destroying things.

The HP tree house is now in pieces and ready for processing so it too can be burned over many summers. I hope the children aren’t as saddened as I was when childhood was torn down.

Peace!