You see, about a week ago, I discovered a mushroom on a tree’s trunk. It was massive and pale. So my family looked up what it meant when tree’s grew shrooms, sensing the worst. And it was.
This piece is to commemorate the tree that once stood in my uncle’s front yard. It was 23 years old but it meant so much.
We all used to rake the leaves under that tree in the fall and then jump into the big piles we would make.
We used to hide in the shade from the hot sun as it beat down on us in the summer.
We used to watch it be drenched in ice and snow during the coldest of months. Then we’d try to climb it in the spring when the leaves finally turned green again.
That tree will always be there in my mind, although it will be strange to walk by and not have it standing proud.
The overall fear was that it would fall on a car or into the street. I tried to lighten the mood by saying that “who cares, they can deal with it” but no one shared my humor for that moment. Plus I knew it was true. Yes, it will be sad at my uncle’s house for a while, but at least we will always have the memories.
Memories that will last us the rest of our lifetime.