This week our 100 and something year-old horse chestnut tree had to be cut down and removed from our yard by crane. Our historic house was built in 1909, and as far as I know, that tree was there from the very beginning. There was a huge thunderstorm last Friday with strong winds, and a large portion of the tree blew down onto our deck and part of our neighbor’s roof. The heavy branches were hanging on by about an inch-thick strip of the branch that was still connected to the trunk. It had to come down immediately to prevent major damage to our deck, fence, and the neighbor’s yard, and luckily, we were able to hire someone to take care of it right away.
They took the tree down while my husband and I were at school. We are both teachers at the same middle school, and it was our second day back for the school year. It was sad watching that old tree come down piece by piece from our Ring camera when we could take a few minutes to watch it happen. I told my husband that it felt as though our pet was being put down that day. There was a feeling of grief at the loss of life for that beautiful old tree and also a sense of relief that the tree would not be suffering anymore, and that no one got hurt. And surprisingly, when it was all said and done, the only property damage was a broken patio umbrella on our deck and the loss of all that wonderful shade we enjoyed in that space. It could have been so much worse.
Also on Tuesday, after school, my husband had a meeting at a mortgage company to sign papers on the closing of his childhood home. My mother-in-law passed away in the spring of 2023, and this summer, her house was put on the market, and it sold within two weeks of listing. Her house is just down the street from ours.
In addition to those big changes, our daughter is in her last year of college. She is in her teaching certificate program and is spending this year student teaching. When she graduates and gets her own job and takes care of herself financially, our world will change significantly yet again.
My parents have also become snowbirds now. They spend part of their year here in Montana with us and part of their year in Nicaragua where they are building their dream house at a beach and golf resort there. They are there now and won’t return until December for Christmas. And it is my mom’s 70th birthday today.
So, between losing our beautiful tree, the loss of the matriarch of the Handford family, the loss of the home that had been in my husband’s family for 53 years, the start of a new school year, our daughter about to become a teacher herself, and my parents off on their own adventures, it feels a little chaotic around here right now. A wise man once told me, “With chaos, comes change.” I’ve always remembered those words and have found them to be 100 percent true.
There is an emptiness in our backyard now. It’s chaotic back there. There’s just a giant tree trunk left where that proud leafy tree stood for so many years. We had them leave the trunk. We thought that maybe we would make it into a large gazebo-type thing for shade. Or maybe a dining table. Or maybe a bar table. Wait, but what will happen to the roots of the tree? Will they rot and cause more problems later? Should we just have the whole thing removed and start from scratch? Can we plant a new tree there, or do we have to dig up a bunch of the yard to get at the roots? Maybe now is the time to reimagine the whole backyard and make room for the hot tub we’ve always said we wanted. Where to start? Who to call? What to do?
With my mother-in-law’s passing and the selling of her house, we’ve inherited some money. It is most likely the only time we’ll inherit a sum like this for many years, I hope and pray, and we want to make sure we use it wisely and in a way that honors the hardworking and loving people my in-laws were. So, there’s an amount of chaos with that situation. Do we use most of it to pay down our own mortgage so we can pay it off much sooner? But we have to be careful. We still have one more year of double expenses with our daughter in her last year of college. We must make sure we hold back enough funds to get through this time and potentially a move for her after she graduates.
So, the sudden falling of our magnificent backyard tree feels like a metaphor for this time in our lives. It is a time of change. We’re letting go of some things we’ve loved for so long and eventually making room for the new. With chaos comes change, for better or for worse. I’m an optimist, so here’s to the tree of change. May this chaos bring reimagined spaces and many happy times ahead.
