treehouse

When I was young, I remember the old tree my sister and I use to climb everyday.

We even brought up pieces of wood and made a makeshift little tree house.

It wasn’t really anything special but it was a place that my sister and I could go and be kids.

One day I went out to the tree and I noticed that our boards that helped us climb the tree were now missing.

I ran inside and asked my dad why he had removed it (figuring he did it) and he replied with, because “it’s not safe”.

 

Thinking back to now, being an adult at the age of 21, I question whether or not he made the right choice of destroying a little bit of my childhood and whether or not him cutting down that piece of wood truly affected my life today.

It may seem like a small little detail in my childhood, but it’s something I remember and hold on to.

Who knows what could of happened if he left that board.

Written by benwoodbrey

1 Comment

Joline

love the detail of the missing boards. i’d like more fictionalization/drama; e.g. maybe a cousin fell through, and that tragedy brought about the tragedy of losing the treehouse…

and this “It wasn’t really anything special ” cannot be true and still have the story be poignant. so just give details of it that would SHOW that to was special–by what you remember about it–the quirks that make up the sacred spaces of childhood.

make fathers decision create more tension/hurt…push the feeling here

Add image into post as well as featured image

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