#40 I, Isabel Scheherazade, and Pop’s Snoring and where it brings me, or actually, what it makes me think of…a back-seat-memory jumps into the front seat.

by storytellerisabel

Pop snores; I hear Mimi say, Dearie, you’re snoring, and he stops. For some reason I  think about the trip my family took to the Giant Redwood Forest early this past summer.

Dad, Mom, Clyde, Sam, and me, we’re all standing around one humongous tree.

Dad reads aloud from a sign that says it’s 1200 years old. That’s the grandmother of this family, he says.  It’s the Mimi. It’s almost 300 feet tall. He looks around for a minute, like he’s scoping out the area.

Mom reads the sign on a fallen tree right next to the Mimi tree. This sign says it’s the daughter tree, and it was struck by lightning. She leans in to read some numbers. It was 200 feet tall–And this one? Mom points to a little Redwood standing near the Mimi tree. That’s the grandchild.

Yup, says Dad, that’s the grandkid.

Pretty big kid, I say.

100 feet tall, he reads. Just sprouting.

Now, these few months later, as I settle in after the snoring business, I think, My family’s like the Redwoods. Only for us, it’s two downed parents, two standing grandparents, and three sprouts. 

I just figured out why Pop’s snoring reminded me of the Redwoods scene. Dad was a big-time snorer too.

 

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