The Tree

My mother died at almost 95, and I needed to walk to the tree. That’s what my son would say after we planted a Texas redbud in Riverside Park 18 years ago. His father had died two years before, when my son was 4. Many times since we have held onto a branch and cried or stayed quiet. I talked to the tree when my son wouldn’t talk to me. I walked to the tree today and it was gone. My soul ached. Disease? Storm? I wanted to ask the tree. Without answers, we will plant another. — Patty Dann

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