Memorial Tree

When Ron passed away, my very kind and generous coworkers chipped in and bought me a gift certificate to a greenhouse/nursery so that I could purchase a memorial tree to plant in my yard.  This weekend, I had the help to get it done, thanks to the fabulous Patrick and Gretchen Lamm.

Breaking ground

I chose a redbud tree because Ron was particularly fond of them this spring.  For those who are not sure what I am talking about, they have small pinkish blossoms that grow out of the bark along the length of the branches before the leaves arrive.  Ron also loved the dogwoods, but I was advised that those are harder to keep alive and I would feel so bad if this tree dies.  Both of these types of trees blossomed early and kept their blooms longer this year due to the unseasonably warm weather we had.  Both trees were plentiful on the back road drives I would take Ron on when we came home from his hospital procedures each week.  Spotting the redbuds became a game for us.  I will always think of him when I see them. 

Moving dirt

Initially, I was reluctant to plant anything here, knowing that I still need to sell this house at some point (though that thought is terrifying to me now - I have grown so attached to this being me and Ron’s spot and I feel the most connected to him here).  Ron loved this house.  From the time he moved here in July 2010 to the time he passed away almost two years later, he was never gone for longer than a night or two.  He didn’t work.  He mainly just spent his time here . . . happily.  He loved this house.  He especially loved to sit on the front porch and smoke a cigarette.  In the final months of his life, he made the living room his base and looked out an east facing window, over the front lawn, from his hospital bed.  Given that Ron loved it here and I think a part of him will always linger here, it made sense to put the tree here.  I decided that if/when I do move, I will just have to make an annual pilgrimage, around the time of his birthday, to see the tree in bloom.  That thought feels right.

Freeing the tree from the pot

Gretchen met me at the nursery yesterday and we looked at many trees and got advice.  Again, redbuds were recommended, because they are fast growing and hardy trees.  Gretchen helped me feel a sense of peace about the process.  I am so blessed to have her in my life; she has made sure to check in on me often and is a great listener.  When we were looking at the trees, she marveled at how the redbuds have heart shaped leaves.  That sealed the deal completely.  Of course I should plant a tree full of hearts to honor the love Ron and I share for one another.

Adding dirt to level and stabilize the tree's position

Today, Gretchen and Pat came out with their daughter, Kendra.  We all took turns with shovels and rakes, breaking ground and moving dirt and getting the tree level.  The dogs kept a watchful eye on the process.  Kendra gave us her feedback with all the wisdom of a one year old.  Everything went smooth as could be.  We made sure to really soak the earth because of how dry it has been and I will continue to make sure the new tree has adequate water to survive. 

Loosening the roots

I added a little bit of Ron’s cremated remains to the roots of the tree.  It was not something he or I ever talked about doing, since I didn’t know I would be getting a tree for him.  It felt important to me, to leave a little part of him here, in this space that he loved.  I think he would be pleased.  Gretchen said a truly lovely and inspiring prayer about Ron while I sprinkled his ashes from my hands into the moist ground.  It all felt so right.  He will be contributing to the growth of this tree now.  His life will go on inside it for years to come.  He will nourish the life of this redbud, just as he encouraged and supported so many of us who knew him.  Finding ways for Ron’s legacy and memory to live on inspires me.

Holding some of Ron

At the end of the day, I am exhausted.  I realize that not only did we do a little physical labor, but the emotional labor of all of this got to me more than I realized.  I did not really cry much during the process of picking out or planting the tree, but later, when I was alone, I let the tears come. 

Holding him with so much love

Even though I like these acts - any act that allows me to remember, honor, and share my love for Ron – I continue to grieve the loss of his physical presence in my life.  I have had a couple really bad days recently (Wed, Thurs, & Fri), really feeling sad and struggling.  This weekend, I kept busy and was mostly outside, so it was not too intense, but as I look at returning to work again tomorrow and going back to the task of trying to turn the grief off and develop a routine for when I can actually feel my feelings, I find myself overwhelmed.  This stuff is so hard.

Adding some of Ron to the tree's roots

However, trying to take things one day at a time . . . today, just in this moment, I will focus on my gratitude on having a really nice tree with heart shaped leaves outside what I have come to call “Ron’s window.”  Thank you to my coworkers for this really thoughtful and touching gift.  You all have been incredible to me.

Tapping the dirt down lightly

I also want to express gratitude toward Gretchen and Pat for spending their Sunday with me, helping me in this way.  I need to additionally thank Dustin and Carrie for helping me yesterday when we installed a new system to try to keep my dogs in their outdoor pen for when I return to full time employment.  Hopefully, it will work . . . but that’s a story for another time.  And, I want to say thank you to the people who have reached out spontaneously and/or in response to my Facebook post Friday to let me know you still care about me.  I feel very alone most of the time and I do not do well in reaching out to others.  I appreciate those who tell me they are listening, are happy to listen, and are here for me any time I need them.  I am grateful to the people who tell me to keep telling my story.  Suffice to say, I have good folks in my life and for that I am grateful.

Protecting with mulch . . . Ru's helping

Tree planting crew

Heart shaped leaves

Ron, as I look out your window at your new little tree, which fireflies are now dancing around, I hope you can see it, too.  I hope that wherever you are, in whatever form you are in, you know you are never far from my heart or mind.  I love you so much, still, and I do not intend to ever stop.

The view out Ron's window

New addition to the yard, right in front of Ron's window