The Oak Tree

My wife informs me they are taking down the large oak tree in our front yard tomorrow.  When I first laid eyes on this house 4 years ago it was the first thing that my imagination seized upon.  It is magnificent, likely older than I am, but starting to accumulate large dead limbs.  

It is still there and it will be there when I get home today, but tomorrow when I return a terrifyingly large hole will have taken its place full of air and swept through with breezes finding no resistance.  The sun will hit full force on the face of my house for the first time in decades.  

To be honest, I want to cry.  The earth seems to quake beneath my feet, so few things to hold on to to stabilize myself these days.  My son is leaving home soon.  I will be moving from my hospital in the Fall after 15 years of thoroughly enjoying the people and culture there.

My parents are making a slow exit that will be sudden when it arrives, but that oak tree was supposed to stand for 50 more years as the king of our neighborhood.  The squirrels and crows love it.  I love it.  Denial is still possible, but tomorrow the king is dead, long live the king!