Thursday, January 6, 2022

Meltdown

 

I'm not talking about this kind of meltdown. The world is melting around me but I'm talking about the other kind. 


I went to bed Tuesday night feeling fine and then I suddenly realized......the tree that was just outside my window every night for almost 30 years was not there anymore. I used to open my curtains and watch it sway in the wind, glisten with rain and collect snow. I cried and cried and cried. 




I planted it to give me some privacy from the neighbors in front of us and now I have none. No open curtains at night for me anymore. They can see me and I can see them.




No more wind chime that tinkled from it's branches in the breeze. It would lull me to sleep. I never realized how much it meant to me until right then and it was awful. I had lost a friend.




It was my sad little Christmas tree that was bent when one of the kid's friends backed into it years and years ago. 



It made a great backdrop for mug shots of woolly things. 




The whole time we were pulling it off the house and cutting it up I never gave it a thought. It didn't hit me until I looked out that window and it wasn't there. It was shocking to be grieving so hard for a tree but there it was and it was terrible. 





Now only this muddy spot remains. Like so many things I've lost along the way, I thought it would be here forever. I could replant in the spring but it won't be tall enough to reach my window in my lifetime-which is a whole other thing that you shouldn't be thinking about in the middle of the night.  




Now that I've bummed everyone out, let me end on a happier note. On New Year's Eve I treated myself to a new pair of Crocs. They arrived yesterday afternoon. I've never had turquoise ones and just unwrapping them made my day a lot better. I'm going to make this a New Year's tradition. Every year a new color. 
Life goes on.
















8 comments:

  1. I'm so sorry. I know a little of how you feel. When I was in 1st grade I planted a maple tree in our backyard. Last time I visited here I drove by the house and there it was tall and proud, towering over the house after 55 years. When we moved here last summer, I drove by and they had cut it down. I cried then. It was like one of the last pieces of my childhood was gone.
    I'm so sorry Debbie. I know how much your trees mean to you. Each one is like a blow and this was one extra special.
    But...I love your new crocs. They made me smile. Pretty, pretty.
    Blessings,
    Betsy

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  2. So sorry. I do know that feeling.

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  3. Even if a new tree won't get that big, you should plant a new one. Or maybe a large shrub or something different.

    We have a large Norway maple on the non-driveway side of our house. Our driveway is quite narrow, and there's no room to make it wider. Dave wants to take the tree down, and build a second driveway on the opposite side of the house and create a large horseshoe drive around the back. Just the thought of taking the Maple down makes me want to cry. Bob Ross was right... trees are our friends.

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  4. You are clever and you might think of something else to put there that will block the view of your neighbors. You could have a privacy fence built with all of that wood... Cute crocs. Glad they lifted your spirits!

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  5. Oh I might be crying too. Our trees are a big part of our property. We have had to take about 30 dead pines down over 5 years. WE have put 12 new trees in I treat them as if they were babies. I'm sorry Deb

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  6. Trees leave a hole in the sky when the come down. It takes a long time for that hole to close. Love your turquoise Crocs!

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  7. Yup, just grieve the loss and the new view. You could plant some bamboo and it would be a WALL in just 4 years! You can manage that! The new crocs for new year's is a great tradition!

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