Loves

Wanna know why I loves the Internets?

I loves it because so many readers who know of my fears that Graham will forever be an only child, pointed out echoes of symbolism in my recent lonely tree lament that I didn't even see myself when I was writing it.

I loves it because within 24 hours of posting that lament for my lonely wedding tree I got e-mails from two cousins - both women I have always loved as sisters - reassuring me that the seedlings they had received at our wedding had been planted and were flourishing under their care.

One of them wrote: "Interestingly, or perhaps symbolically, the (tree) that lived is planted right beside the kids' wooden backyard climber (their choice location) and has been beaten with bats, tied up with skipping ropes, hugged mercilessly, jumped on from above, run over with sleds and crazy carpets, fed to guinea pigs, peed on by dogs and almost loved to death.

"It seems to thrive on the abuse of my four children as well as dozens more I have daycared in the past years. It was the perfect height for a preschooler, so every winter when we made bird feeders to hang up, or Christmas decorations, it was the perfect choice. If facing adversity builds strength and character, this tree shall have a long and happy life."

But not a lonely one, it seems. Not a lonely one.

Maybe just because

I'm not sure why this particular slice of my evening brought me to tears just now.

Maybe because it's the first day of spring tomorrow and it's still so bloody cold and miserable outside. Maybe because I still feel heavy with sadness over the terrible news I received a few days ago. Maybe because Rob is still in such an awful lot of pain.

Maybe because Graham has never been happier thanks to an art project, a doting cousin, a good book and a chair big enough for two.