Did you ever have one of those places when you were a kid that you would go to, to dream, to play with your friends, to be a kid? I did. It was this tree house that my Dad built and I attempted to assist (mainly with painting).
I loved this tree house and spending time with my friends here. Doing our best to be tough enough to sleep out there the whole night, eating apples right off the tree on summer afternoons, and just having a place that was mine. This space was special and as of a few weekends ago it is no more.
It has been standing for the last 25 years with the last 15 years rarely getting any use. With that kind of neglect my Dad had become increasingly worried that there could be the chance of it falling in an earthquake and preferred taking it down himself. So we planned a weekend to go up and Graeme and I would help him take it down.
Graeme ended up being the primary helper in dismantling and the running joke all weekend was, “how do you feel about me tearing down your childhood?”. I would laugh, but the reality like this tree house is that there is a time and a season for everything and there was a season for this tree house in my life, a season that was sweet and filled with a lot of wonderful memories. Now there is a season for it to come down to make new memories watching my husband and Dad bond over tearing down a building together. Dreaming up new plans of what could go in place of the structure. Enjoying the time together as a family.