Days are short and dark In this usual snowy time of year There is grass to be seen, only one snow fall so far, that has melted. Most leaves have fallen. Except for the pine oak tree, Who hangs onto her leaves Way beyond her fellow trees, Like I hang onto my Dad’s house, Well after he has been buried. Long after many people would have sold the home. Today, I signed a contract To sell Dad’s home, I am letting go of my last leaves. And not surprisingly, the big old pine oak Dad planted fifty years ago has died. She needs a crane and lots of work men to cut down her down. It’s almost Christmas and she’ll be gone December twenty third, dust. A giant tree, chopped down after years of providing shade, beauty, comfort. Chopped down in her old, well spent life. She is hollowed out inside. Chopped down like my Dad when he passed away two years hence and fell to the floor with a stroke. Old and ready to go, but too quick an exit for this offshoot to comprehend. Provision of comfort, security, shade from the travails of life were Dad’s gifts to me. He was like that big old pine oak he planted, watered, nurtured over fifty years ago. Dad’s canopy to me are gifts: the need for life long learning, Inquisitiveness, determination, courage, strength, and business acumen. His canopy is sorely missed and not easily forgotten. May I never forget Dad’s story. May his seedlings continue to grow into big strong trees with deep roots, Like those of his daughter. Maybe someday his grand daughter and grand son will start their own canopies. That is, if we are blessed with new sprouts. Seedlings that propagate from that grand old tree in the future. The circle of life will continue from this once grand tree. And yes more leaves will be shed. More trees will be chopped down to dust. Yet more seedlings with crop up.

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