From it, another grows. And lives.
I am not an ecologist or a dendrologist. I do not know the specifics of the science behind this.
One tree has fallen. And is dead.
And yet, hundreds of years ago, a little seed sprouted on this fallen trunk. And a sapling began to grow. Its roots have formed itself around the base of the trunk. It is beautiful and strong and sure. Because it had strength to grow on.
And one day, the fallen tree will completely erode away.
And all that will be left is the empty space where it should have been. Like this tree.
My grandma died.
I miss her.
She left a
space
too.
She gave me a solid place to grow on. And she gave me a base.
She taught me how to laugh.
How to use a shoe as a weapon.
How to find treasures.
How to eat popcorn.
How to hold a baby.
How to imagine.
How to sing.
How to choose the right.
How to love.
And while we can no longer see her. Our very beings have been shaped because of her. And we can see that.
And that's beautiful.
Just got around to reading this. My heart hurts to have her back. Glad to be reminded so much of her is still in all of us.
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