tree requiem

This is Grandma's house. Except for the tree in the foreground. It is gone as of today. It had pulled up the sidewalk long ago and every engineer type foundation fixing contractor whatever would look at it and shudder and say, "It has to go!" Grandma said, "No!"... until suddenly and without us bringing it up she announced about a month or so ago, "It has to go!". So here we are on the river (other side of the house, this is the creek side) to let her have a week in her home since the little guy is out of school, the tree guy says he's in the area and BOOM. Literally. And I cried and cried. Then Grandma cried. And the little guy and... you can only imagine how much my husband was enjoying all this.

 And Grandma keeps taking her oxygen off and I forgot her shot and was a day late again and I spent an hour on the phone straightening out refills and it's hot (does this look like a house with air conditioning?) and...

Yesterday we saw dolphins on the river (and that's pretty rare on this river) and then a hummingbird on the bee balm (not rare, but feels rare) and we lay on a float off the dock and pretty much knew we were the happiest people on earth. Or at least I knew it until I remembered I'd forgotten the shot and the tree was coming down today. I have so many pictures (some printed, some in my mind) of my mom leaning on this particular tree waving goodbye to us. Never again. But it already was never again. And the tree guy said there was a big rotted hole in the trunk. It was time. I know.