The Art of Saying Good-Bye

I lost a friend yesterday.  She had never been very robust in the three years I have known her.  This spring she came out of our six-month winter looking even thinner, and when I could see her bare arms at the end of May, I knew it was time.  Several severe thunderstorms convinced me if I didn't act soon, we might end up with part of her falling through our roof.

I have never been good with good-byes.  When I retired earlier this month, I made a beeline out of the school so I could avoid shedding copious tears on my colleagues.  I am always much better with a casual , "See you later," or "Let's get together for dinner soon."

And so it was with my dear ash tree.  Yesterday morning I drank a final cup of coffee under her shade and thanked her for the many lovely times spent on my deck under her canopy.  I had to leave when the arborist came with truck and chainsaw.  When I returned, she was in pieces on my back lawn.  

I couldn't stop myself from going through the debris and salvaging a couple of logs.  Here are the results--sort of a memorial to my old friend.  I know the birds will enjoy the cooling waters.

A plate from TJ Maxx and a stump.

The stump grinder will be here in a week.  I really hate good-byes.

Prairie Sherry