My Independence vs. Practicality in Washington DC

Today I will be forced to watch lumberjacks hack down my favorite Oak tree outside my office window. It has housed birds, squirrels, acorns, leafy shade and one lovely, long limb has stretched outward to frame the sunporch. When spring asserts itself, the leaves bud, grow, dangle and whisper in the light breeze. In winter, the breeze strengthens and whips off bits and pieces of the limbs above. It is a tree in distress. My husband has wanted to remove it for several years but he saw my face and postponed its death for me. Today, it will die completely as it is hacked down, its stump ground to smithereens. And my husband's beloved green grass will be sown over the ground and the Oak's soul will give energy to grass and a grassy knoll as flat as the back of my hand. However, thinking trembling smiles, I recently marched outside and snapped several pictures of our house with the tree's branches hovering above and I will paste it to my desk wall in loving memory.

Memories. Isn't it a strange and wonderful part of us? With all the family history I have unearthed over the past few years that has knocked my socks off, pages are filled with where they were born, where they lived, who their children were, what they did to earn a living...but memories? Do they die with us? I suppose so. That's why the family stories I hear are so precious to me as I write my book or family notes for my own descendants. Those stories almost...almost touch us with their thoughts, decisions, moves and family drama. If only genealogy was as important in older days as it is to many of us today.

Washington DC., home of the National Archives, the Library of Congress and the Daughters of the American Revolution are among just a few repositories that hold secrets thicker than fog await my arrival. After postponing my trip to the capitol city in January, it has been postponed again so I decided to take Amtrak alone, arriving by 10 a.m. and leaving by 7 p.m. But, it was not to be. Independent though I am, the thought of finding a hotel to spend the night was not a choice I would make... Amtrak only runs at 2:30 p.m. daily to bring me home again...so no evening trains could be found. Sigh. I had to choose practicality over independence so I will march along looking for an alternative.... striving to find a companion who shares my burning desire to search the archives without fearing Washington at night and forging ahead as a duo vs. a single nut in the big city. Yes, I am disappointed but as fate would have it, there will be another day and when it arrives, I will be packed and idling at the gate.