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When I was born, I got a gift from my Aunt Debby and Uncle Robin.  I don’t remember receiving it, of course, but am told that they brought it shortly after my birth.  It was a little, bitty ficus tree.  Would you believe that for 30 years that ficus tree has stayed alive…I remember it when I was little, in our many homes.  I remember that my dad got in when my parents were divorced.  He brought it to my wedding as a surprise for me.  It was a money tree for people to hang well wishes and cash on.  We used that cash for our honeymoon in Cabo San Lucas.  It became a Christmas tree on our first Christmas together.  We strung lights on it.  It went gang-busters in our first house after a good fertilizing treatment and a great window.  31 years it has been a fixture in my life…a treasured gift.

But it could not survive one thing…

BED REST.

It was upstairs in the gameroom…a place I was not allowed to visit from October thru December.  Caleb was responsible for its care.  And despite his best efforts, or lack their of, it did not make it.

We tried to save it in the last days.  A new pot.  Some good soil.  A fertilizer.  But it was too late.  It was already gone. 

I refuse to allow the tree to symbolize my life.  Or my marriage.  Because, if so, what would that mean?  But I will miss this tree that refused to give up and stood strong (although at times ugly) for so many years.  So, I say, goodbye old friend…