My friends, we meet again. It’s generally at

this point in our ever decreasing conversation

that I would inform you that “all is well on

the Midwestern front”, however to do so would

most undoubtly be a farce. Terrible

thunderstorms and tornados have ripped through

the heartland over the last forty-eight hours,

leaving a trail of downed trees and powerlines

that stretches across America like a comets

tail. I can although, inform you that, in my

hometown, life has been unbelievably changing

right before my Irish eyes.

You see, over the last month, our family has

suffered from some sort of tragedy on multiple

levels. However, to tell the story properly, I

feel I should instead tell you the tale of the

once tall, strong and proud Ash tree that stood

right outside my office window, in my front

yard. Roughly fifty years old and fifty feet

tall, our family loved that Ash tree. It

provided years of protection from the harsh sun

beating down upon our lovely home. It provided

shelter for many furry and feathery creatures.

I’m not sure, but family legend even states

that this tall, strong and proud Ash tree

single handily defeated The Soviet Union, cured

Polio and was responsible for the reunion of Bo

and Luke Duke with Uncle Jesse. Yes, this Ash

Tree had seen it all. It had lived through

years and years of terrible storms and

unearthly tribulations. It had seen children

who grew into mothers, who grew into

grandmothers. It had seen it all. However, due

to our great dispair, our tall, strong and

proud Ash tree grew ill. As the family prepared

itself, we knew there was a time coming when

our family would no longer have it’s

protection, it’s shade, it’s shelter in our

lives. There was a day when it would soon be

gone and all we would be left with would be

memories and pictures.

There is nothing like the thought of death that

makes a man step back and look at his own mere

mortality and where one may stand with it’s

maker. In the blink of an eye it could all be

over and what you’ve done with your life, the

legecy you’ve lefted behind is what will be

remembered of you. It’s thoughts like these

that I wrestled with in anticipation of the

death of our tall, strong and proud Ash tree.

The time unfortunately came when the tree would

need to be removed. It’s body from it’s roots.

It’s roots from the ground. Where a once

beautiful symbol of our family home once stood,

would be left with soft ground and a layer of

grass seed. As the men came that sunny day to

remove the tree from our yard, I left for work,

knowing full well that when I returned to my

beautiful yellow brick home, something wouldn’t

quite be the same. That protection that once

stood wouldn’t be there. That shelter for the

creatures of Columbus, Ohio wouldn’t be there.

I wrestled with this thought as I went

throughout my day. Then it hit me -

Our tall, strong and proud Ash tree would carry

on in a number of ways. A little piece of it

would be carried on in the lives of others. For

some, it would generate warmth in the dead of a

Midwestern winter. For some, it would create a

beautiful wood floor – a strong foundation to

live on. For some it would be a little boy’s

rocking horse, a place to learn and grow. In

fact, it was almost selfish of me to think what

the loss of my tree would mean for me and not

realize how it would soon impact the lives of

others in ways I simply could not comprehend

when the circumstances arose.

When I pulled onto my street that hot July

evening after a grueling day in the office, I

stood in silence and looked at where my tall,

strong and proud Ash tree once stood. Instead

of seeing a hole in the ground, I instead saw a

new, level yard, covered with dirt, grass seed

and straw as if our Ash tree was saying to me:

“Go ahead, son, I’ve created a new foundation

for you to grow now. Don’t worry about me. I’ll

carry on forever in the memories and the lives

of those I’ve touched. Go on, grow here. Live

here. Protect from the storms in life. Provide

shelter to those who need it. Be strong. Be

proud. Make an impact in the lives of others.

Be a rocking horse…”

It was in July that we lost my wife’s

grandfather – the man who’s house I now live

in. A tall, strong and proud veteran of three

branches of the United States Armed Forces and

of two wars. A father of three, a husband of

one and a protector to those whom he served and

a man who provided shelter to those who needed

it. I for one, will forever be greatful for the

way he has impacted my life, even without him

ever knowing it.

All may not be well on the Midwestern front

right now, but it is well with my soul.

Until we meet again, old friend, until we meet

again.