Dad's New Trees

To say that the process of grieving for my dad has been overwhelming is an understatement. Of course, we all grieve differently.  I have found that my grieving process is very private, unpredictable, and drawn-out. I still have people that I need to express heartfelt gratitude to. Dad touched a lot of lives. Many people were amazingly supportive to me and also just wanted to honor his life. It will take me a long time to properly express gratitude to all of them. 

I recieved a lot of cards. I could not open all of the sympathy cards at once. I couldn't handle it that way. However, each one means a great deal to me.  Each visit, phone call, text, or card reminded me that I was loved and Dad's life was honored. Each of my loved ones had different means and different ways of expressing sympathy and love.

And yes, I am still opening sympathy cards. I just opened one that made me cry. Not a bad kind of crying, but the kind of crying that comes from happy memories. The kind of crying that is therapeutic and healing to the soul.

Today, I just opened a card from a dear friend. The card said that she contributed to the Arbor Day Foundation in Dad's name. The card says:

"As a tribute, 20 trees will be planted and registered in Chippewa National Forest. ... the trees will be a living monument to your loved one."

Tears are running as I write this. She could not have known how perfect her memorial was. When Dad was 16-years-old, he helped his father plant an half acre of pine trees on property that would one day be given to him by his father. The half-acre of trees were planted in perfect rows. Many years later when the trees were fully grown, a young girl could lay on a bed of pine needles and gaze up into a perfect circle of pine tree tops — surrounded by chirping birds and Lady Slippers.  It was my escape from the world, my safe place, my heaven on Earth. The half-acre pine forest served me lovingly throughout my childhood and teen years.

After the trees were weakened by hurricane Hugo in 1989,  Dad decided to cut them them down and sell them to timber companies. Unfortunately, he had not warned me of this. When I came home to visit in 1990, as I drove down the curved driveway, I discovered the trees were gone. I cried. I cried like crying for a lost loved one. However, the pine trees had served their life purposes. They provided homes to wildlife. They improved the air quality. Most important to my life, they provided a sanctuary that I could not find equaled anywhere else.

When choosing a memorial to my dad, this friend never could have imagined that she found the most touching, most special way to remember his life. I pray the 20 trees in Chippewa National Forest grow well, prosper, and provide at least half the enjoyment and good mental health to living creatures that the trees that Dad planted when he was 16-years-old gave to me.