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My beloved lumberjack.

By Christie Wilkins


Environmental writing and Great Lakes Literature.We sat in two plastic white lawn chairs under the big maple in the center of our "yard." He told me how the past year had changed him, other than his fluctuation in weight and appearance. He eXplained to me that material things are frivolous, and that he never saw himself as a material person (the family didn't either). They were meaningless, these "things." He told me they were only two things that mattered to him now. Counting on his hand, holding out his thumb, he said, "One. My family" We are his first priority, the only thing that matters to him the most. And then,'Two. Getting myself out of bed the next day." As weak as he was, getting out of bed'really was a feat for him. I can understand why this is important. It's all about getting another day, being able to wake up and have another day with the people of his number one. He then told me, "Christie, if it weren't for you kids, I wouldn't be alive. If I wouldn't have started a family I would have died.

Year: 2009
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