Spring has sprung! My grandson’s memorial tree made its spring debut wearing splendid verdant foliage with its branches showing fine form reaching toward the sky. When it was planted back in the fall, I looked at the bare, immature tree and wondered if it would even survive. As you can see from the photo, the lacebark elm made it through winter just fine. It is planted in Squirrel Lake Park within walking distance of my home. Over the years, I will enjoy watching it mature with large, sturdy branches and offering plenty of shade.
Sadly, I will miss the joy of seeing my grandson grow taller and stronger like his special tree. In my mind, he is stuck at four years of age. It has been almost eleven months since our angel boy went to heaven.
All living things evolve over time. The tree. Myself. My views. My faith. My inspiration to write. Speaking of writing, it is what I do to heal. If sorrow sneaks in, I turn to writing and slip into a fictional world void of my own pain. My characters might suffer, but not me.
I don’t need the tree to remind me of Gabriel, but I’m glad it’s there. I hope others see it, read the plaque, and realize life, every life, is precious. Maybe a mother or father will appreciate their child a little more. Perhaps they’ll watch their child or children play on the same playground as Gabriel and realize how blessed they are to have them.
Children Are the Hands by Which We Take Hold of Heaven – Henry Ward Beecher
Wording of Plaque: In Memory of Gabriel Alexander Jordan. A child who gave the gift of laughter, love, and joy.