www.mycnews.com • Community News – St. Louis County • July 6, 2022
Senior Living
Still In This Together: The wishing willow tree I don’t know what was there before they built the house we moved into when I was four. More questions that I wish I had asked before the people who would know the answers were no longer here. Those kinds of things weren’t important at the time. The ground may have been part of a neighbor’s lot, or it may have been an empty lot to begin with. I just know our house was a new build, and the other houses on the block were older. It was a small brick, two-bedroom, one bathroom cottage, large enough for my parents and their two girls, with a nice fenced yard and a small patio. Dad and Grandpa installed a swing set at some point, but until then the highlight of our backyard was the weeping willow tree way in the back of the yard (or so it seemed to my four-year-old self). For some reason, I always pronounced it a wishing willow tree, not a weeping willow, and the pronunciation stayed for the six years we lived there. The tree was small, I’m sure, but the sweeping branches were large enough to sit under, and hide under, and create an entire pretend kingdom under. I remember sitting on blankets under the tree with my mom and my baby sister, reading books, coloring pictures and eating picnic lunches. Mom had a hillside of flowers just beyond the tree, where the yard sloped down to the back fence, which helped lend a sense of privacy to my wishing willow tree. As my little sister grew up, she crept more and more into my world. I found myself wishing for more privacy, and encouraged Gail to play in the sandbox or climb across the top of the swing set and do acrobatic tricks… one of which caused a fall and an emergency house call from the doctor who put a couple of stitches into her forehead right there on our dining room table.
By Vicki Bahr
The wishing tree was suddenly no longer my own. Gail could climb higher into the branches than I could because she was smaller and lighter, and I envied her that freedom when the wind blew through her hair and the branches flowed around her. But the wishes were all mine. I wished for the second-grade teacher who ran homework assignments off on the mimeograph machine on colored paper… pink and blue and green seemed so much more fun for working out long division problems. The wishing willow gave me that wish, and I remembered that trick years later when helping our own kids with their homework. I wished for white puffy clouds in the shapes of animals on summer afternoons, and buttered noodles for dinner, and for a valentine from my third-grade boyfriend, Darrell, and the wishes came true. I set up our little red metal folding table and chairs under the wishing willow tree and did my homework there. It always seemed easier to memorize spelling words and state capitals and multiplication tables under the quiet shade of my wishing willow, even if Gail was also there coloring her kindergarten pages or blowing bubbles from high up in the branches above me. It was a hallowed spot, one that granted wishes and brought peace to my world, and weeping willows have always been favorites of mine because of it. Soon after my second little sister was born, we started spending weekends driving to look at display homes that would give us more room in far-away North County. To our parents’ credit, it was a fun time of closet exploration and choosing favorite subdivision names, watching our basement being dug and our new home’s walls being built. I was able to find treasures of nails
and small pieces of wood and errant bits of metal that I could arrange into abstract masterpieces under the wishing willow, not entirely aware of the fact that boxes and moving trucks could ensure that our possessions would magically show up on Mockingbird Lane, but that some very important things had to be left behind on Amelia Avenue. There were no trees in our new subdivision; there were no fences or flowers or bushes or even much grass. The wishing willow was left behind, along with all its storm-blown memories and lazy summer afternoon secrets. I had learned to read under its branches, and I wondered if any other little girls would be lucky enough to know its magic. We found out a few years later that the new owners had removed the tree to make space for a garage to be built. Of course, by then, I was mature enough to understand that the weeping willow had simply been a tree, and it had no magical powers or wish-granting properties. But now, to the much older me, it will always be my wishing willow, and I love the memories and the smile it brings to my heart. Vicki Bahr is an inveterate word lover and story sharer, a published author in magazine, newspaper and blog forms. As a mom of four, grandma of nine, and wife of one for nearly fifty years, she finds that inspiration and wonder are everywhere. The opinions expressed in this column are the columnist’s alone and do not reflect the opinion of the owners or staff of Community News.
Christian Hospital EMS nationally recognized for its commitment to quality care for severe heart attacks Christian Hospital has received the American Heart Association’s Mission: Lifeline EMS Gold Plus achievement award for its commitment to offering rapid, research-based care to people experiencing the most severe form of heart attack, ultimately saving lives. Each year, more than 250,000 people experience a type of heart attack known as an ST elevation myocardial infarction (STEMI), caused by a blockage of blood flow to the heart that requires timely treatment. To prevent death, it is critical to restore blood flow as quickly as possible by either mechanically opening the blocked vessel or using clot-busting medication. Mission: Lifeline is the American Heart Association’s national initiative to advance the system of care for patients with high-risk, time-sensitive disease states, such as severe heart attacks. The program helps reduce barriers to prompt treatment for heart attacks – starting from when 911 is called, to EMS transport and continuing through hospital
treatment and discharge. Optimal care for heart attack patients takes coordination between the individual hospital, EMS and health care system. “The health care professionals who interact with a patient even before he or she enters the hospital or emergency room play a vital part in the system of care for those who have heart attacks,” said James G. Jollis, M.D., volunteer chair for the GWTG-CAD Systems of Care Advisory Work Group and professor of medicine at Duke University School of Medicine. “Since they are the first medical point of contact, they can save precious minutes of treatment time by activating the emergency response system that alerts hospitals to an incoming heart attack patient.” The Mission: Lifeline achievement award is earned by agencies that demonstrate a commitment to treating patients according to the most up-to-date research-based practices as outlined by the American Heart Association.
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