The Giving Tree

Summer.  Hot, hot summer.  Spring lasted ten seconds, then it went up to five hundred degrees.  Then, the water went out in Atlanta.  For, like a few funky days.  I spent the first week I had off going to concerts.  The Magnetic Fields, Pixies with Modest Mouse and Catpower, even the Rolling Stones.  Then, I went to the beach.  

I have been renting a Tybee Island beach house for a few years now.  I get a big one, right at the beginning of June and invite my mom, sister, niece and whoever they want to bring.  I got the idea from Alec's brother.  I thought it was a nice way to try to keep my family together.  This year, it turned into a family brawl.  It has bordered on it a few times before, but this time was too much.  I'm upset, we're upset, it's bad.  

I came back to Atlanta and tried to wrap my head around everything.  I painted the front room of our house.  I exercised a lot.  I watched the Tour de France with my little six dollar Peacock app.  I thought about Lola.  She and I watched it together while I painted a different room last year, when I didn't know she was dying.  

We found out that our beautiful Oak tree has to come down.  It's as old as the house, probably one hundred and twenty years old.  We get it maintenanced annually.  Every year, they say great tree.  No worries.  This year, the first guy said it was on the verge of death.  We called three more opinions.  They all agreed.  Then, we had to wait.  For a permit.  The tree really looks bad now and I was getting scared every day that went by without the permit.  

My first reaction when we found out that the tree was dying was to think of Lola.  My baby died eleven months ago, today.  It's like everything in our lives, in our house is dying.  I used to lay under the Oak trees with Lola.  I'd look at the beautiful leaves, the way they swayed.  And I would hold her.  

All I can say is Hilary loves Tree.  And she will miss her, terribly.  

*  Title, drawing, Shel Silverstein