Letters Home: Section 1, Letter dated August 12

August 12
Katrina,



There was the most wonderful wedding by the lake this morning as a couple said their vows and pledged their lives to each other. From my window, I saw the bride in a sleeveless gown of white holding a bouquet of wildflowers. Under the tent that had been erected in the field, the couple had their reception. The food that drifted on the air smelled delightful, though I was unable to determine what had been served. I imagine Betsy’s granddaughter outdid herself again.



Do you remember being that young and in love and stepping into a new beginning? Monica told me that she had heard that the bride and groom were to honeymoon in France. I said a little prayer for the couple, for their love to last through the ages as did yours.



Weddings. I always thought generation after generation of family members would be married here at Father’s Oak, in the grand entranceway with the bride coming down the staircase. So much is the same, yet so much has changed at The Oak. I’ve done the best I could with this old house, the property. Not all of the decisions I’ve made have been good or right, but many have been necessary. It’s not so bad really, knowing that the oak tree by the lake blesses its good fortune on strangers who unite as one near the shade of its branches. Sometimes it gives me warmth inside, knowing that the wonder and magic of this property can reach out past its borders like a mother reaching for her babe, protective, helpful, loving.



In all of these years of words, Katrina, I can’t recall if I’ve ever told you the story of how this came to be, the weddings here.



The Oak had made it through the Great Depression with minimal damage primarily due to its strength heading into the Depression. Since Father never cared much for the stock market, his wealth was not immediately effected by the crash and, as always, The Oak did its best to meet the needs of the farm workers and the house staff. Whatever the effect, The Oak and the people associated with it pulled through the crisis.



The second world war took aim and fired at Father’s property and financial worth like it had been the enemy in the war, crops failing and investments I had made not doing very well. Yet The Oak, with its ever enduring strength, survived and regained its financial health. Looking back, I think the compound effect of the Depression and War is what really took a toll on The Oak and on Father’s fortune.



By the time we were sixty-four years old, President Johnson, just having been elected by a landslide, was concentrating on another war the country was engaged in at the time, and The Oak, as well as myself, was continuing to be supported by Father’s wealth, good farming habits, and good investments. By that time, you were a grandmother several times over, both Betsy and Robert had been passed for many years, your son had safely returned--thank Heavens--from the second big war and entered Robert’s banking empire, and I was living at The Oak while you continued to reside in the home you had shared with Robert on the coast.



The farmland had been blessed with good workers and good weather, prospering several years in a row. Additional orchards had been planted on the property as an additional investment, but orchards require time to produce worthwhile product. Father’s fortune was still strong, but not what it had been, and I worried about the future.



What would become of The Oak, I wondered, unprepared to see the memories within this house be disgraced by time and by hands with no reverence for the history written on these walls. I had no descendants and, at the time, was certain not to see The Oak delivered into the hands of your children, then grown with children of their own, successful in their own right, and heir to Robert’s wealth. So, I sought out the advice of financial experts as I had when I had other questions regarding The Oak.



I wanted then and still want Father’s Oak to be remembered, for Father and Mother to be remembered. And, so a plan was devised. The agreement stated that the State would be allowed to share The Oak with visitors who wished to learn of Father and, in return, they would assist with the upkeep of the property. The State would have their own staff on the property but maintain the staff that existed here prior to the agreement. As Father would have wanted, I made sure that no hire lost a wage. I maintain ownership of The Oak, but the State shall obtain power over it when I am no longer here. I maintained Father’s monetary wealth, but have willed it to charitable organizations. In the agreement, as well, was a stipulation that I may reside in our family home until my death and that no changes could be made to the structure of the house. It’s not that complicated, really.



So, sometimes, friendly visitors with a respect for the past come to marry on this promised land or to learn of our parents and The Oak and the history within. But there is much they never learn, much they’ll never know, words written just beneath the surface of these walls that can only be read by us.



Always,
Christina




This work is fictional. Any resemblance to actual situations or persons, living or dead, is coincidental and unintentional.