Pine Tree

The final pine tree near our townhouse was cut down today.

G loved those trees. G loved trees. Anything big and mighty and old - mountains, Sequoias, tall pine trees, thunder clouds (okay those aren't old but you get the point), the ocean - he was in awe of God's creation. He loved to feel small against something so mighty.

When they started cutting down the trees this summer, it really broke G's heart. Last fall they cut down the trees on the campus we work on and he couldn't understand it. He called me in tears. He hated beauty being destroyed. So this summer, when he was emotionally depleted, isolated and struggling physically, it made his heart hurt. He was angry and sad.

I had mostly forgotten about how it affected G until this morning.

P went into a rage like I have never seen before when he was them cutting down the last tree. Crying. Screaming. From deep, deep within him. Begging me to stop them. Telling me I had to do something NOW, had to call someone or email someone. Screaming "why would they do this?". It was such a powerful, painful reaction that immediately I knew it was about G. One more thing that G loved being wrenched away and P being powerless to stop it.

I let him rage. I told him I was angry. That I didn't understand. That they wouldn't stop but that I would email the neighborhood board and ask them if I could plant a replacement pine tree in G's honor. I ran outside and asked for them to cut me a large piece of one of the branches. This weekend, we are visiting my parents and my dad is going to help us make it into slices that can be turned into ornaments.

And eventually P calmed down.

The pain and the anguish that came out of him shocked me. It gave me a window into the pain in his little heart. My sweet boy.