The other day I was pouring some water into the soil at the base of the tree and it hit me--that a tree is a lousy substitute for a baby. I wanted to have a baby, and instead I have a tree. And all of the sudden, like grief so often comes, I found myself sobbing and shaking and wondering how and if this all actually happened. It's been almost two years, and while the waves of intense grief hit the shores of my heart less frequently, they are still enough to knock me down when they come. I don't know if I will ever fully get used to being mama to this tree instead of that boy. But I will try, when I water that tree, to remember our time together and trust that in some cosmic way, in God's great big love, he and I are still united.
|Matthew's tree on his birthday last year|