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May 13, 2007

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Virginia Gal

I got the call last week from my mother that they had a magnolia tree in their front yard cut down. This tree has always been at the house according to my memory - my parents planted it early in their married life, 30+ years ago. It's not a tree I paid much attention to; except for a few early years when my father threatened to cut it down unless it bloomed. And bloom it did. In my memories, it frames the left side of the house. When it was planted, their landscaping was small and they needed another tree. Time passed and the tree grew and other plants grew, and the driveway was extended to make a loop in the yard not too far from the trunk, and now the tree is too big, too messy, and my mother can no longer reach the blooms which saved it so many years ago (because the lower limbs had to be cut off to allow room for the driveway). It was time for it to go.

My mother says taking the tree out has allowed a great deal of light back into their bedroom. Light that they gradually lost as the tree grew, gone so slowly they didn't even realize it was no longer there.

I am struck that the magnolia tree is like some of these thoughts, assumptions, ideas which make up our internal landscapes, and which we outgrow and need to discard to make for newer, younger, more appropriate thoughts, assumptions and ideas - things that living with Elias have made you question and that you have generously shared with those who read this blog.

Thank you - even those of us who are not personally sharing your experience can use the reminders to check our own internal landscapes for outgrown and outdated conceptions, things which have grown and are blocking our light without our even realizing it.

(sorry for the long post)

mae ann

Happy belated mother's day Christy. I am still reading and so admire what you share. Your story brought back such a vivid memory for me. A few years ago when visiting my mother in NJ, we saw that the the "over-a-hundred-year-old" oak tree which was the hallmark of Princeton Battle Field, had to be cut down. Similar story to yours....so many of us had climbed, played games around it, had wedding pictures taken beneath it, etc. and now it's gone, but they did plant some of it's branches for another cycle...a re-birth. Hope you enjoyed your mother's day.

Christy

Virginia, no apology needed, I loved the idea of our internal landscape needing to be cleared to make room for new world views, it puts a different angle on the loss of the willow tree, one with hope. Thank you for sharing the story of the Magnolia tree that bloomed in time to extend its stay. Beautiful.

And Mae Ann, boy do we miss you, its not the same without our weekly visits that were therapy in the disguise of warm conversations. Thanks for reading and sharing about the old oak tree. This willow might have been a hundred years old too and my mom thinks it may have been cut down because the grounds crew didn't like mowing around the big ol' roots or maybe it really was dying and it was just its time to go...to make room for something new. I would have chosen more willows over a white picket fence but I tend to dream outside the box. Happy Mothers Day to you too.

Alexandra Heidinger

God, I remember that willow tree so well. All the fun (and fights) we had in her branches. I know how much you loved that tree. As I read your blog, I kept thinking about my favorite children's book, The Giving Tree. If you haven't read it recently (or at all), you should now.

Christy

Al, I started to write about our fights, and you almost walking home with me in tears at the top of the hill, but there was too much of a back-story to it for this post. When Elias wakes from his nap I'll check to see if we have A Giving Tree. That was my favorite book as a kid-- probably because it was yours:) Miss you my old friend.

That Girl

They cut down my tree last week and I cried a little too. Not only is it in my heart but I made a hook rug of it. Now I just have to find it. Or pretend that Ill find it. I was never good with goodbyes.

Mary Pomeroy

Once I start reading your blog, Christy, I can't stop....I just read Mae Ann's comments about the tree in her life. I have a special tree, too. I used to hide in it and read for hours. My mom would call for me and I would never come down until she had gone to the backyard looking for me. I would then decend the old oak tree and sneak around to mom. She never knew my secret hiding spot until we had moved out of the family home and I was home with our first son. We drove by the ole family home and I started crying. I stopped the car, got out and climbed the tree again, without any concern that the now-owners might come out and scream at me. They didn't, I stopped crying, my mom was laughing and my 9 mo old son was saying "up, mama, up". I put him in the back pack and climbed up the tree with him and sat on my special perch. I was happy. My tree was still there!!

Enough of trees. Stories of butterflies and not saying goodbye ring true to my heart. Tents, cousins, playing, and mamamamamama also ring a bell. The three of you pull on my heartstrings. I miss all of you and know that today you are biking!!! Enjoy your adventures. I want a signed autograph of your first book, ok!!! More later and hugs, Mary

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