The Meaning of Life is an Apple Tree

I’ve had this story in me for a while. It stirred inside me, it made me emotional. It’s been eating away at the back of my brain for some time. And now, it’s time to let it out. It’s a good story. There is a sad ending, but like every good story, it is a reminder to look for meaning anywhere and everywhere you can.

To preface this, I need to set the stage. I’m at my son’s graduation from middle school many years ago. On the back of the program are all those inspirational words that so many of us see written anytime there is a cause for pause and celebration.

I found myself looking through them while I waited for the graduates to come out. I’m normally not impressed by these as they can be very vague and don’t usually have a lot of meaning for me.

However, on this particular day, I was struck by one quote. It was from a man named Nelson Henderson. It read, “The true meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade you do not expect to sit.” Immediately, my thoughts went to my uncle.

My uncle had lived with my family for as long as I could remember. He was my dad’s brother and a second father to me. When my parents divorced, he stayed on with my dad because dad simply couldn’t care for himself. I’m not sure if the divorce broke him or if he was never meant to be self-sufficient, but he has always needed a caretaker. So Unky stayed on to take care of Dad financially.

He had never had a family of his own. Truth be told, I don’t think he ever had a significant other. He devoted his entire life to our family, and it was just normal for him to be there. We all loved him like he was a second dad. To me, he was more like a first because I could depend on him. When I needed help, he was there, ready to lend a hand, no questions asked.

The years passed and Unky aged. He was always hard to understand due to a speech impediment, and he was illiterate, but he was one of the smartest people I had ever known. I feel sure that if he had been afforded the chance at an education he would have excelled at whatever he chose to do. Unfortunately, he suffered a stroke later in life that would further diminish his ability to communicate, a fact that he was all too aware of. It was heartbreaking to watch his frustration as he knew he was saying the wrong words but couldn’t think of the right one.

But I digress. Unky taught me lots of things, and my love of gardening and wild foraging came from him. He taught me how to pick wild greens, how to prepare them, and how to survive if I ever had to off the land.

One day, he asked me to help him plant an apple tree behind the house that I grew up in. He and Dad stayed in the house after Mom and Dad divorced. I raised my children in the house next door, and there will always be a member of my family on that land, at least I hope. Anyway, he had a green thumb and he had saved an apple seed from an apple he had eaten months before and grew this little sapling.

As we were finding the perfect spot for this little sapling, he looked at me and said, “I probably won’t ever eat apples from this tree, but someday you kids will.” He had nurtured and babied this little seed and coaxed it into a sapling, not because he wanted it for himself, but because he wanted us to have it.

Sadly, Unky left this world for the next a few years ago. I think of him often. Out of all the things he taught me, this lesson was the most important. So my dear sweet uncle, who taught me so much, in his simple ways and kind gestures, has the meaning of life planted behind the house in the valley. I love you, Unky, and I miss you every day.