I’ve cried over two trees in my life. One was a spectacular grapefruit tree we had in the yard of our first “real” home in Miami. This happy tree produced such an abundance of fruit that we invited our neighbors to come over with grocery bags and help themselves when it was laden down with its sweet, pink globes of juicy deliciousness.
Sadly, Hurricane Andrew also stopped by, tearing our neighborhood to shreds and snapping the tree into bits. I cried and cried. I swore after the storm that I’d never fall in love with another house again, so I went ahead and fell in love with another tree.
This new favorite tree sits out at the corner of our lot. It doesn’t bear fruit or anything, but I just loved that tree’s shape from the first moment I saw it. It reminded me of an umbrella the way it stretched out its limbs and created a perfect circle of shade. I made a note to myself to buy a bench so I could sit under it and enjoy the breezes.
Of course I failed to share that vision with my husband who decided to do some landscaping while I was at the mall one Saturday. (My sweetie landscapes with the same intensity and focus of a barber at bootcamp.) I came home to find my beautiful “umbrella tree” looked like the wind had swooped up under it and turned it inside out.
My poor husband, who thought he was doing me a huge favor, could not believe my hysterics. I almost fell to my knees in disbelief..and of course, I cried and cried. He felt terrible and assured me it would grow back to the way it was.
Three years later, it finally (kinda) did.