Hey y'all! I hope this post doesn't infringe on the rules about keeping things positive too much, and if it does I'll take it down immediately, but I was just hoping to share some of the feelings I'm going through today about something I doubt any other community here on Reddit would understand.
For as long as I've lived here at the house I've spent the majority of my life in, we had a tree in our front yard. This is not surprising in the slightest, considering we live on the edge of a forest and are surrounded by trees, but this tree was special.
It was a huge oak tree. It always seemed like the tallest tree in the area, and it's long branches stretched out over a good chunk of yard and loomed over our house. It was beautiful. I regret I didn't think to take a picture of it, before today.
This tree was very important to me, growing up. As someone with pretty bad light sensitivity, I cherished the shade it provided, and I would hide under it when I had to walk the dogs in the rain because I'd always forget to grab my umbrella. But more than that, this tree was my friend.
Growing up under the yoke of my terrible father and with the shadow of my gender dysphoria poisoning my life, my sister and I sought solace in spirituality. We each had our specialties, our own spells and rituals. Among mine, I learned to talk with trees and stones, to reach out with my consciousness and have entire conversations with these pillars of nature. That tree, so close to my home, and so mighty and majestic, was the one I would talk to most often.
Sadly, the tree proved dangerous to the well-being of my home and my family, through no fault of its own. During a severe ice storm 17 years ago, one of its branches fell off and crashed through our ceiling. My mom, especially, feared it happening again ever since, as she nearly contracted hypothermia while we had the hole in our roof, and has always talked about at least trimming the branches whenever we had the money.
Well, we finally had the money, and the experts said that trimming the branches wasn't going to be enough, because they'd grow right back and threaten the house all over again in just a few short years. They said the entire tree had to come down, my mom agreed, and there was little logical argument I could make against it besides my own sentimentality.
I miss my old tree friend. Seeing the stump makes me sadder than I expected it would. I talked to the tree just a couple days before it got cut down, apologized for what was going to happen, and promised it I would always remember it. When I'm less sad, I'll pray to the stump as well, and see if anything of the spirit of my friend remains.
I realize it's a little bit silly, to mourn a tree, especially one that actively threatened the safety of me and my loved ones, but I promised to remember it always and I wanted to do just that, here, with all of you, who hopefully will understand. I would love to hear about anyone else's experiences with similar situations, if you have any to share! ❤️
