Roots

Does the earth feel pain as it is pushed aside by a searching tendril of underground tree?

Roots burrow, snake, anchor and cling. Roots seek nourishment for the life above ground—when life flourishes, you know the roots are strong.

I am well-acquainted with roots. Last week, we had a plumber snake out our laundry room floor drain. When the washing machine drained, the water backed up and made a nice little indoor river of soap down one wall of the basement. He snaked and snaked until everything seemed clear. When he pulled it out of the drain, small tattered roots were attached, a common problem.

I had my root canal this morning. It was a fascinating experience and I was surprisingly calm. I am still numb nearly two hours after leaving the office. While I would love to stop drooling, I am wary of the medicine wearing off. I saw the x-rays they had to take. I have screws in the roots of my molar. It can’t be something that will feel good later in the day. I am armed with painkillers (serious, and luckily midwife-approved) and runny Campbell’s soups for nourishment. I can’t take the painkillers until hubby is home from work since I prefer mothering unloopy.

But some roots cannot be seen on a plumber’s snake or an x-ray. They are the intangible roots of where we all come from—our homes, our heritage, our families, our beliefs. For the last couple of months during our home search, I have never been more aware of being rootless. Sure, we have a stable home—we’ve lived here for six years. But it isn’t ours, as much as we’ve made it our own. I can’t believe how naive we were about home buying. I thought: you get a bank to give you a loan, you find the house you want, you sign a bunch of papers, you move in.

I never bargained for dishonesty from real estate agents (not ours!). I never thought about things like mold, or realized what a game it is. I didn’t think we’d have to look at well over fifty homes, approaching perhaps seventy-five. We’ve lost track. I didn’t imagine we would make offers on five places before it would fall into place.

Yesterday, we made an offer on a home we both adore. I knew when I saw the front door I would like it. Even the powder room sink made me excited. This time, the sellers said yes.

We met our real estate agent in the endodontist’s parking lot before my appointment this morning to sign the contract and give her our earnest check. With a good inspection in the coming week, we will close near the end of July and be completely moved by August.

My bottom lip is starting to tingle. That means the numbness is going to wear off very soon. I feel warm sensations as the left side of my mouth is beginning to wake up.

Does the earth feel pain as it is pushed aside by a searching tendril of underground tree?

Yes, it does. But it is worth it.