Pine Moments

If you have read these musings for any time at all, you will have noticed that inspiration (if that is truly what it is) seems frequently to be found in the dialogue between movie or television characters.  

Stop here for a second. 

I think (yes, right here in the middle of writing) that I need to mention how grateful I am for the talented and deep-thinking writers out there creating life-changing transcripts while entertaining us. In addition to the television and movie writers, I must also include authors of everything from children’s books to academic tomes. Thank you!

We are "Back Again". No, that is not the subject movie for today.  I have chosen the 2012 release of  Still Mine instead.

Wikipedia informs us that this movie is a true story based in rural St. Martins, New Brunswick, Canada.

Capable but aging, Craig Morrison (James Cromwell) lives with his wife Irene (Genevieve Bujold), of 61-years, in an old two-story farmhouse.  This has been home for a good long time, but Irene’s health is declining.  Soon, this house will become an insurmountable obstacle in Irene's life.

Craig decides to build a new, much more suitable home for Irene on their homestead.

He begins the process.  He sketches out the plan (mainly in his mind), selects the parcel, buys the lumber, and soon the hammer begins swinging into action.

His troubles begin.

Craig does not want to spend any money on permits, architects, general contractors, electricians, and plumbers for work he is qualified to do on his own private and secluded land.

However, Craig discovers that there are rules and regulations. He finds a whole lot of people wanting to be involved in giving or withdrawing permission for him to do what he does naturally. Adding insult to this perceived injury, Craig realizes that for this unwanted interference, he is also required to fork over a good deal of cash.

Since I encourage you to watch this film, I will silence any further temptation to tarnish your viewing experience.

But of course, because the following dialogue is the point of today's post, I must make a spoiler exception for the following discussion between Craig and Irene.

Reminiscing is something we all do. Sometimes, if we do it in the company of others who were present, we learn a little bit about ourselves, our viewpoints, and our growth over time. 

Craig begins by asking Irene, “Do you remember when I built our dining room table?”

Irene mentions, “We had been using a sawhorse and planks for so many years, I had all but given up on ever getting a proper one.”

C.  “My father helped me nail the boards.  I put 12 coats of finish on that table.”

I. “Which still didn’t help when Ruth spilled ink on it.”

C. “Well, I wasn’t THAT upset.”

I. “Huh.  You were very table-proud back then.”

C. “No! It was a very nice piece of carpentry!  Do you know how much a Harvest table would have cost in a store?”

Irene only chuckles.

C. “The first few years, every nick that table absorbed I took personally. It is all I could see. The dent from a fork, a scratch from a skateboard, the ghost of someone’s handwriting pressed through a single piece of paper.”

I.  “I forgot about that.”

C. “I mean how hard could it be for a kid to remember to put a few extra sheets under their homework?  There were a lot of times I regretted not making that table out of oak.  But, as the years went by and the scars added up, the imperfections turned that table into something else.”

C.  Pauses to reflect.

And Craig finishes with, “That’s the thing about Pine.  It holds a lot of memories.”

As I was looking to determine what words would see life today, I happened across the transcript noted above.  

I also remembered a Christmas ornament: A silly little thing, it was made of a couple of brown wooden balls and similarly colored pipe-cleaners.  My daughter was just discovering how to use her hands and reached out for this attraction grabbing one of the curled pipe-cleaner appendages.  Her grip was tenacious and as she pulled this little bear closer to her, she met resistance. One leg was suddenly much straighter and considerably longer than the other.

I remember being a little upset about this new gift being disfigured as the giver sat directly across the table.  

When thinking that repairs were being considered, my mother screeched a prophetic demand that we, "Leave it alone!" It is obvious to me now, that my mother knew the value of "pine moments".

This "sad and disfigured" brown-bear creation with disproportional legs has been my favorite Christmas tree ornament for nearly 40 years. 

I have chosen to enter a season of reconciliation. It has rapidly become an incredibly difficult period of recollection, evaluation, and adjustment.

As I move through this challenging moment of righting wrongs, I will search memory banks for these "pine moments" as they apply to each person for which harmony, agreement, or at least some settlement is sought.

I will remember that sometimes, things having once been deemed mutilated and defiled can eventually become beautiful tear-dripping memories in the form of tables and ornaments.

Perhaps the relationships that are currently mangled and distorted can eventually become beautiful tear-dripping futures of togetherness as well.

“Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First, go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift.”  Matt 5:23