My neighbor saw a post that she paraphrased:
"If we know that plants thrive when we say nice words to them, give them fresh air and keep them hydrated -- imagine the effect if we offered those things to ourselves."
It rang true in my own life as I reflected upon the beauty, steadfastness, and presence of a magnificent tree in my own yard. Here are the story and lessons of Grace, my Chinese Elm.
Meet Grace:
I had the most beautiful Chinese Elm in my front yard. For years I did not know what kind of tree it was.
All I knew was that it was beautiful.
A new neighbor moved on my street and said "What a healthy and vibrant Chinese Elm you have".
It never occurred to me that I didn’t know it was a Chinese Elm. I asked him how he knew and he shared that his mother was a fan of Chinese Elms and anyone that knew her was steeped in Chinese Elms.
No sooner had I become acquainted more personally with my tree, I noticed ants crawling on her, which seemed unusual.
I contacted an arborist who told me that she was getting too much water. I then asked my gardener to cut back on the water she was receiving.
Notice I referred to her with the pronoun She.
I wonder why.
Perhaps women have had a history of putting themselves on the back burner for family and professionally.
Next, I noticed mushrooms sprouting up all around her. My gardener was on vacation so I went to the nursery told them about the mushrooms and they gave me something to spray the area with after I took the mushrooms out. It took four people to tackle removing the mushrooms.
I don’t know if it was the ants, the mushrooms, or the solution I was given to put in the soil to keep the mushrooms from returning but my tree died.
I refuse to believe that she had died.
I even had someone come to see if maybe she needed nutrients to revitalize her.
Two experts assured me she was dead.
I arranged to have her removed. Yesterday was the day.
Saying Goodbye:
The person who was the leader of the crew came and introduced himself to me and explained that he would take care of not destroying any of the flowers and plants located near the tree. His name was Junior. I was so appreciative because my favorite uncle was named Junior and he was also one of my most favorite people in the world. My dog who we loved and nurtured for 16 years was named Junior.
I felt as though both my Juniors were looking down and welcoming my tree into her new home.
The crew that came to assist Junior began to perform the most beautifully choreographed Cirque de Soleil ballet as they went about climbing, swinging and removing limb by limb ever so gracefully with each person knowing their part and executing with precision.
I found myself smiling and relieved that this was not going to be a painful process but one of creativity and love.
I could feel the sensitivity and compassion the men displayed to my tree and me.
Saying one final Good-bye to Grace.
What did I learn from my tree, Grace?
Notice throughout, I referred to her with the pronoun She.
I wonder why.
Perhaps women have had a history of putting themselves on the back burner for family and profession.
Quiet Strength-
She was there protecting, shading, and gracing my front lawn for the 16 years I have lived here and many more years before, I had not taken the time to learn more about her besides what was on the surface.
The fact that she was beautiful and provided shade. It turns out she was much more than that.
She had a presence appreciated by the entire street.
Gratitude -
I can’t tell you how many people rang my bell to share the sense of loss they were experiencing because she was no longer there and offered condolences to me.
I noticed the plants and flowers surrounding her are now drooping. I began to reflect on how inattentive I had been to this vital piece of my property.
I wonder how I would feel if my spouse, my family, my friends had been that negligent by taking me for granted, not recognizing my contribution to the relationship, and not taking the time to know ME.
Does this speak to you?
I have named her Grace. My granddaughter and I named all the trees in my backyard but had never given Grace a name. She graced my home, my street, and she is missed. She has opened my eyes and my heart with a new awareness.
I said Farewell and felt her say “I like my name Grace and I will always be here for you”.
