This is a common deflection after a loss. It’s a way to try and bypass or avoid the pain of losing something that was meaningful.
But while all loss isn’t equal, all loss needs to be grieved.
We cut down the big old ash tree in our backyard. The big, beautiful shade tree that canopied The Portico is no more. Just a big stump is all that is left.
“Its just a tree, right? Its not a big deal. Plant another one.”
Yes, I plan to plant another one in its place. A big oak to be precise. A slow growing tree that I will never see in its full glory. But you plant trees for the next generation, just like other decisions of faith.
But somewhere in the 1960’s, someone did the same thing. They put an ash tree in the backyard of the little house on 53rd Street for me and the hundreds of guests who have enjoyed its shade over the years.
I bought the house in 1992, when the tree was small. But it was sturdy enough for a rope swing for my kids, and to attach a hammock to. It provided an aerial playground for the pesky squirrels that chewed on wires and the string of lights it held.
But the severe windstorm in the summer of 2024 hit. It uprooted my neighbor’s tree and pushed it into the street. Neighbors down the block weren’t so fortunate. Their ash tree landed on their house. A conversation with my insurance agent convinced me that it was cheaper to take it down than to take it off the roof.
So ArborMark and I tackled the project and of course it was one of the most difficult trees he has removed. But its down now and I don’t have to wonder if it was fall on its own.
The backyard sky is now open. The presence of extra light doesn’t feel right yet. I know it will eventually, but today is the day to pause, reflect and remember.
Which is a good progression of grief. Pause long enough to feel something. Reflect on the feeling and remember the memories.
Some losses won’t take long to process. Others will take a lifetime.
And always keep in mind; Sorrow comes to pass. Joy comes to stay.