At the side of our home are two beautiful trees. They bloom once a year with soft, fluffy white blossoms. When the two trees are in full bloom they are truly breathtaking. I stand at my side door smelling their fragrance and surrounding myself in the bright white flowers. I’ve tried for years to capture the beauty of these trees with photos, yet pictures don’t do them justice. They are best appreciated in person.
The trees have grown up with my children and as with my children, I’m periodically overcome with emotion when I look at them. The trees are only in bloom for about a week each year and I feel sad yearly when the blossoms fall. The trees remind me of the fleeting stages of childhood and the moments that passed so quickly. I miss my daughter’s baby blond curls and her sweet little voice. I miss my oldest son in front of the trees with his beautiful girlfriend before prom. And I miss my youngest child sitting with the dog under the shade of the tree branches.
Sometimes when I look at those trees, my chest hurts with the emotion of such beauty. I’m overcome with how wonderful and fragile life can be and I desperately wish that those trees could stay in bloom forever. I want to capture and hold onto that week of heaven on earth and keep it in a place where I can look at it whenever I need to. I wish the same for my children’s younger years. Oh there are days that I would give anything to hold my babies again, feel their delicious hugs, and listen to their little voices.
Of course it isn’t possible for the trees to hold their bloom or my children to stay young. So each year there is a day that I wake up to the blossoms off the trees and my children another year older. Maybe it would be easier if I didn’t fall in love with these trees every spring. Maybe if I looked at them less frequently, I wouldn’t feel so sad when spring turns to summer. Yet those fleeting moments of gorgeous bloom are worth it, for I so love my trees.
Love,
Lisa Kaplin Psy. D. PCC