A Willow Tree Reflection

Four years ago, with anxiety in my heart and a shaking hand, I pushed the PUBLISH button on my first blog.  I was full of self-doubt, but I had a strong desire to find a platform for sharing my observations on life, improving my writing skills, and sharing and preserving memories of my childhood and family.   

I thought I might have enough ideas for four or five blogs, but I moved forward hoping that new ideas would come to me as I went along, and sure enough – they did!  The more I wrote, the more ideas I had.  I learned how to add pictures and that was a game changer.  LOL 

Sometimes I couldn’t find the words for the ideas I wanted to convey, and some blogs just didn’t turn out as I had hoped.  Others came easy, and I found it cathartic to share heartfelt memories of my parents and early carefree days.

One hundred and thirty-four blogs later (134!  I can’t believe it), I just want to say thank you and give a big shout out to everybody who has given me a like, sent me a comment, said ‘Me too!’ when I shared a quirky habit or insecurity, and encouraged me to keep writing.  A special long-distance hug to my aunt, a Florida transplant from Sault Ste. Marie, MI.  I wouldn’t have done it without you.  Your encouragement, and your expectation that there would be another one coming, has kept me going; has kept me trying to be better.

I’ve not published a repeat before, but I am this week.  Here is a reboot of my first blog – I Wish to be a Willow Tree – but this time with pictures. 

I Wish to be a Willow Tree

I grew up under a willow tree, in a small town on a corner lot.  Okay, there was a house too, but I loved our willow tree.  It was part of my childhood home.  I climbed it, daydreamed in it, and slept outside overnight under its branches.  It was the back stop of neighborhood softball and kickball games, the starting point of our croquet matches, and someplace to hide when I was mad or sad.

Willow trees are messy.  It’s true.  They have little leaves that confound a rake, skinny, limber branches that wrap themselves around lawn mower blades, and if your tree is healthy, her beautiful weeping branches will drag on the ground which is “not good for the grass” my dad would say.  But I loved her. 

My love of our willow tree gave me an appreciation of other willow trees.  Willow Creek Golf Course had many beautiful willow trees.  My sister worked in the pro-shop and I remember going there with her.  (Was it really okay back in the day to bring your little sister to work with you?)  I would eat Jiffy Pop, play with the resident cats, and hide under the lovely, fluttering willow branches. 

Our neighbors down the street, had the largest most beautiful willow tree in town.  Their yard backed up to the creek which I’m sure contributed to his beauty and longevity.  In later years, I took note of a boyfriend’s neighbor who had a pond and large group of willow trees.  I dreamed of buying that house someday when I was grown and married.

Willow trees seek water.  It’s what they do.  They’re thirsty.  They’re trying to make beautiful weeping branches and leaves.  I know our Willow and her creeping roots caused my dad some stress and financial damage.  I was not privy to all the gory details since I was just a kid, but I know we had to have our sewer lines replaced from the house to the road.  I think of that as the beginning of her end.  Although she survived for ten plus years after that, she never looked quite the same.  However, a quick modern day google search informs me that willows are not long for this world.  They are a short-lived tree and may only get to be 20 to 30 years old.  Some may live to 50 with tender loving care.  I think we could have done better by Willow, but I wasn’t running the show.

There are willow trees and wiener dogs in my heaven.  I made this declaration after I read The Lovely Bones in which Susie Salmon described her heaven in great detail.  Sometimes on stressful days, I close my eyes, take deep breaths, and visualize a warm sunny day with a rolling brook, willow trees and lots of dogs (not just wieners).  And I’ve actually decided to become a willow tree.  Have you heard of this?  You can have your cremains interred in a “living urn” which is a tree memorial.  How fabulous is this?!  And very green.  When I first heard of the idea, willow trees were not offered as one of the tree options, but I knew it was only a matter of time, and now they’re available! 

So take note, oh child of mine.  When I die, I wish to be a willow tree.  Here’s a handy link. 

Weeping Willow

Oh, and be sure to plant me near some water.