The Way I Grew Up

Chapter 2

The whispers of Virginia and the forest grew more frequent now that my mother had passed from their place into history itself; and with them, mysteries within the woods grew deeper in my mind's eye.

The animals grew more curious of me as if they knew not just their keeper but Irene's as well.

That night, sitting by the glow from a fire, a young doe came near. It was so close it could be felt against my hand. A breath.

Its young eyes seemed all-knowing as if the beginning of time had been a page in her life.

I spoke to her and she to me in a silent language only people who truly understood such things could know.

Her message was clear: the woods needed my protection now more than ever.

As if I knew how to protect them anyway. Maybe I was the one who needed protection?

With newfound purpose and deeper self-reflection, I turned to study now the whispers of trees, secrets plants share and shadow shapes dance in.

I became a temporary caretaker here just as my mother once was there.

People from the farther towns would come to seek my advice, their eyes wide with wonder and dread about what I had become.

Some brought gifts, others brought warnings of the world encroaching. But I knew that the woods had chosen me for a reason.

The trees grew tall around my cabin, a living fortress; and the animals grew bold in my presence.

They knew that I was one of their kind, part of the forest as much as they were themselves.

I wanted to teach them the human tongue, and they taught me how to find myself through their care.

Together we watched over the woods, maintaining a balance between nature and the ever-hungry world outside.

The townspeople whispered of a witch in the woods, a guardian of nature, and those whispers eventually grew into a legend.

But in every rotation of that wheel, I am guided by love and preservation - the love which is in the heart of a mother for her child, and the love which a person bears towards his native place.

The house grew old with me, the logs turned grey, and leaves and moss began to cover the roof, yet it stood sturdy, proof of our lives here.

So when it was my turn a few months after my mother's leave, as it is with all things, I wanted to leave the forest and leave behind the pain in those dark woods.

Yet, even in my mother's memory, how could I?

Jane's spirit stayed at my side, and Brutus's gentle growl rumbled away with me in the trees.

As the earth went down me, the forest went around me, my story merged with the whispers of the woods.

The tales increased, the whispers grew even louder, and the forest became wilder and more magical, more violently defended.

And in the hearts of those who told such tales the spirit of Irene and her child moved on, as love and nature know no bounds, are never conquered, and go on forever.

I am now the one who must care about us- we who are left.

I am the caretaker now.

Those were my thoughts then back in my early years, oh the pain we went through in those woods.

I write these moments as I recall them, living them once again with careful memory digs while I'm on the porch.

Still, even in my older age, I still long for some of those great adventures.