Among the Monkey Trees

     It will be 24 years on February 29 since my grandpa lost his battle with cancer.  He was more than just a grandpa.  He stepped in to cover the roll of dad when our own dad stepped out of our lives.  He taught my sister how to drive, my brother how to fish and me how to mow the yard at the cabin with the riding mower.  I was about 8 or 9 so to me it was a big deal.  Just this past summer I carried on the tradition and taught my niece to mow with the exact same riding mower.  It was nice to be able to pass that down. 

     My grandpa also had a love for the outdoors.  He hunted, fished, even iced fished, snowmobilied, golfed, and boated and he would even take us tubing out on the lake.  He would sit outside listening to a baseball game along with a few other older neighbors while us kids splashed about in the lake.  He would even hook up a small flatbed trailer onto the riding mower and take us kids in the neighborhood at our family cabin, rides up and down the street and around a few blocks.  It was only natural we too fell in love with the outdoors.

     They used to live in Green Acres Apartments - a retired living community, around the city block from us.  We would walk there regularly.  As I got older I would take shortcuts by hopping over neighbors fences and slip around the carport.  One end of the carport scooted up to a fence but there was just enough room to get through it.  It was mostly covered with vines or overgrowth but as a kid you felt like you were in the jungles of Brazil making your way on some remote long forgotten tribal path. 

     Green Acres Apartments looked like a grid.  There was 8 or 10 brick apartment complexes.  Each housed 8 apartments - 4 on the bottom and 4 on the top level.  Between each complex was a small parking lot and a carport.  Sidewalks wrapped around the buildings and trees outlined the outside sidewalks.  Some sidewalks even led to a small sitting garden with painted white iron furinture.  It was like a fantasy land to me.  The labyrinth of sidewalks followed by gardens with flowers and trees hanging over them just made it all magical. 

    
     It was often that our grandpa took us for walks along these paths.  When we would come up to the side with the trees he would have us listen and quietly look for monkeys.  He would tell us these are the monkey trees and if we are quiet and slow enough we would see the monkeys.  We would get all excited and slow our speed to a crawl anxiously looking for a monkey.  Sometimes he would yell out that he sees a monkey's tail.  Our eyes would pop out of our heads as we excitedly looked in the direction our grandpa was pointing.  We were disappointed we never seen it.  We always hoped we would see a monkey.  We were young enough we didn't know monkey's didn't live in Saginaw, let along Michigan.  As an adult now looking back he may of said that to make us slow down and be quite or to make us aware of what was around us.  Either way as a kid we enjoyed it. 

                                                            

     With children of my own we love going for walks out in the woods.  I tried to pass along the monkey tree story but I guess my children are way smarter than I was because they would look at me and tell me monkeys don't live in this part of the world.  I couldn't help but smile and laugh and their knowledge.  I guess this is something I will have to share with my grandchildren one day while they are still at a young age.  I still find myself when we are walking, or even driving down a two-track, looking up in the trees still hoping to catch a glimpse of a monkey's tail.  I know I will never see one but a part of my inner child inside of me still hopes.