Still here, still hurting
I’ve been watching a lot of Olympic coverage. I don’t remember watching much of the previous Olympics, even though for the last winter and summer Olympics I must have been here in this house. I vaguely remember flipping through some things. But this year it’s become a routine for us… we come home, eat something, turn on the Olympic coverage and watch until we absolutely have to turn it off and get some sleep. It’s enjoyable. It’s something for us to do together.
I still have serious doubts as to whether or not that tree is going to live. I walk out there every day with an air of disappointment and despair. I’d beg it to live, but I’m far past the point where I believe that good will or intentions prevent bad things from happening. It will either die or it won’t, and there is little more I can do about it at this point. I am following the instructions. I’ve done what I can – the rest is up to the universe and how bad 2008 is going to suck overall.
The top half of the tree was just laying on the lawn beside the rest of the tree where the arborist left it. Initially I was going to toss it in the woods, though I also had a very strong wish to throw it in the woodchipper with a scream and many tears. Instead, today, I picked it up and carried it inside. I sat it on my desk behind my monitor, half a tree. I cannot decide if it is comforting or depressing. But I know I can’t quite let it go right now.
I aleady have plans to plant a new tree. Originally it was an “if this tree dies” plan, but I’m thinking I might do it anyways. I get sad thinking about how a cherry tree only lives 20 to 30 years – something we did not know when we planted it. (Note to others: do research before planting a memorial tree. Apparently fruit trees, while very symbolic, aren’t exactly the best choice for this.) So I’ve been thinking about a maple tree of some sort…. I’ve always loved my parents’ variegated maples, and we have a huge, gorgeous japanese maple that we both adore. Den doesn’t want a huge tree in the front, so I’ll probably pick somewhere out back. I really love the idea of a tree being around long after we are gone. As long as it outlives me. My children can deal with it then, and it won’t really matter. If this cherry dies, Den may very well want to replace it with a new fruit tree, and I’m totally fine with that. I’ve had to get used to the idea of two trees, but this whole ordeal has forced me to accept what I did not want to… to view things in a different way.
After thinking about all of this for a little while today I went out back to my small vegetable garden (which doesn’t hold much anymore, and is getting a little overgrown) to look at the small japanese maple trees I re-planted this year. Every year we get tons of seedlings sprouting around our yard from the big tree, and this year I finally hunted down some good ones and transplanted them to a safe corner of my garden where I can nurse them. The smallest ones started this year; the larger two I rescued from quieter spots in the yard where they had been left undisturbed since their sprouting last year. I thought to myself, wouldn’t that be fitting? A tree that sprouted last year… when Devin’s little egg was just turning into an embryo. Possibly a good choice. So I will watch these little trees and see if I want to choose one of them. But I’m still quite fond of the idea of a variegated maple – we do not have one of those yet. Either way I will decide next year… on his birthday, or his due-date-birthday (because March 6 may still be too early to plant a new tree).
I had this plan, you see. A plan that this cherry tree would be His Tree, and I would take photos of it every year for his scrapbook, that we’d take photos of us with it, our future children with it. That it would be a thread running through our lives, a way for him to be with us. We started this year. I took photos of it of us with it, I made scrapbook pages. The very real possibility that it won’t be there next year, that we’ll have to start again with a new tree, leaves me feeling so lost. I need something to cling to, goddamnit. I need some kind of thread that will carry me from this year to the next. I cannot start fresh every year. That takes all the meaning out of it.
Dear Universe: YOU SUCK. You took my fertility, you took my son, and now you’re taking his damn tree, too. Throw me a fucking BONE, will you please.
I am very, very angry, and I do not like feeling this way. I miss the person I used to be… naive and foolish as she was. At least she was happy. At least she believed that things could work out for the best. I feel like I walk around every day with a 50lb weight strapped to my back. I just feel like weeping because I am so damn tired of not being able to stand up straight.
*hugs*
Glad to see you post something, I have been thinking about you a lot!
I really hope the tree makes it. I remember my mom having some trees over the years coming close to death and pulling through, so hopefully that will happen.
I had no idea that fruit trees weren’t trees that thrived until somebody cut them down or something. I thought they were like all other trees as well.
I think planting another tree is a good idea. It might feel good to have something that you know is more permanent.
I’m sorry you feel so angry but it might be possible that you *need* to feel that way right now. I think feeling it and acknowledging it is better than trying to convince yourself you’re not angry, but I know you are very good with your emotions so its like preaching to the choir here.
Lots and lots of hugs!
Big hugs to you. It’s ok to be angry. It will dissipate eventually.
You know… I like the idea of a tree in the back as well, a nice big one like a maple, regardless of what happens with the cherry tree. Depending on how small you start, it won’t come to be right away, but I see at some point in the future a beautiful, big tree with kids or grandkids running around, climbing, swinging, totally happy. Even when it’s small, in the back yard where the kids are playing is a beautiful idea to me, putting all your children together to play.
Natalie – I am so sorry. The anger is “normal” and certainly understandable – upsetting nonetheless. I wish there was something to be done for the tree. For the top part – if there is usable wood, some people carve wood and make them into pens. I have seen crochet hooks, art, other things – something useful that might still be able to have meaning for you. A thought I had – I hope it is not one that is further upsetting, that would never be my wish, I know this is a very hard time for you.
We have a tree around here called a Mimosa. I remember you saying you had wanted the Cherry Tree to blossom in pink. When the Mimosa blooms it has fuzzy pink flowers – it is quite unique. Given how many there are all around, they seem to be quite sturdy – weathering our midwest ice storms and humid blistering heat.
Thinking of you.
*hug* I wish I could do something more than just listen to take away your pain.
Thinking of you, hon.
xxx
Natalie, we obviously don’t know each other but I’ve been reading your blog for awhile now.
I remember that when you realized it was the wrong tree and didn’t bloom as you expected it to, that you were very upset about it. Maybe..just maybe…Devin knew how upset you are as well and knew you that every time you look at the tree, you know it’s not what you meant to have as a memorial, but you did not have it in your heart to replace it. So maybe…just maybe…he’s creating the situaton that forces you to get the right one there…and give you some kind of closure.
Just my thoughts…I hope they aren’t upsetting to you.
I’m really so sorry. I was thinking the exact same thing as Missbeahaven above — I was remembering you saying how upset you were when you found out the blooms weren’t what you thought they were going to be. It could be *this* isn’t his tree, after all.
Japanese maples are really lovely. If you like, I could email you pix from my yard — one baby one (2 years old) and one very, very old one (unclear — I’m guessing at least 25+). I might also consider a blooming something else — I forget where you live, but crepe myrtles are pretty and strong, and there are other cherry varieties that get old and big and still bloom (like weeping cherries, one of my favorites, and perhaps appropriate?). Finally, there are evergreen, which again is symbolic. You need to be a bit careful with these and make sure you transplant a lot of roots (I think they’re a bit susceptible to shock, but Fall is a great time to plant them), but then they’re really easy and live for a century. we transplanted a very mature Blue Atlas Cedar when we moved here, and I can photo that for you, but there are others.
Now that I’m yammering, is there is a botanical garden in your area? You might want to pay a visit and see what moves you. You might be surprised.
“I see at some point in the future a beautiful, big tree with kids or grandkids running around, climbing, swinging, totally happy. Even when it’s small, in the back yard where the kids are playing is a beautiful idea to me, putting all your children together to play.”
I think Kel’s sentiments are perfect.
Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I want to kick the crap out of the universe for you.
Stay strong, Natalie! I can’t really add to the lots of others who have already commented here. Try painting a room a bright, Mediterranean color – I just did it, and it made me like the universe again, if only for a short while!
Natalie,
I am so very very sorry. I wish there was something we could do to carry this weight for you. I know you don’t pray, but I do and I am going to do that for you. Please don’t be offended, but it feels like it’s my way to help you. My heart literally hurts for you. This world is definitely an unfair place. I see blue skies ahead for you, I REALLY REALLY do. I wish I could take the vision and give it to you. I don’t know why, but I honestly see a daughter in your future. A little baby girl dressed in pink. I wish I could impart this hope into you. The dream WILL come true for you. I believe it with all my heart. I know it’s hard for you to see through all these clouds, but I see it for you and I will keep the vision and hope going strong for you! Sometimes we need to just let someone else do the hoping for us while we heal. Please, PLEASE let me know if there is anything I can do for you specifically. I know you don’t know me, but you are on my mind all the time. You are a very special person. This whole thing probably sounds cheesy, but I can be your warrior for you, I promise. Just ask me.
hey
man oh man this all just sucks. i am feeling the blahh screw this effing world too. i think it is because our awful anniversary (that is what i nick named it in a fit of anger and it stuck) is coming. as the summer turns to fall i begin to HATE life. okay so this isn’t uplifting and i am sure you don’t need more crappy thoughts.
you will likely never be the natalie you were before. her world is gone and now she, you, are in a different world. and that’s ok. i won’t tell you how happy you’ll be and all that good stuff because i just don’t know. i do know that, like you said, things just are how they are and we can do little to change MOST things. thank goodness for what we can change, though.
thinking of you as always
Natalie,
I have never formally introduced myself to you, my name is Sarrah, I am a member on JM from the MAY 07 PR. I am so sorry for your loss, I have been reading your blog for quite a while and I just felt like I had to say something. I too, pray for you. It’s just how I feel situations are best taken care of, I hope that it is alright. My heart often breaks for you, I wish I could help you more. I just wanted you to know that there are people like me out here, following you and hoping for the absolute best for you. I am thinking of you and I hope the pain eases up soon.
Hugs,
Sarrah
It sure does seem unfair, doesn’t it? I’m sorry. :(