I am having problems with my Mayday tree. For one thing, the tree is late in blooming. Yesterday, the very first handful of blossoms opened up on a couple low branches. Normally, the Mayday tree is filled with blossoms by this date.
But my biggest problem is
memories. We are only four days from
what will mark ten years since my Uyen passed.
Even though I am now in a deeply satisfying relationship (although
long-distance at the moment) with the most beautiful woman in the world, the
ten-year mark has a certain added weight to it.
I don’t know why.
On Uyen’s last good day, I eased
her into a wheelchair and pushed her out into the sunshine near the Mayday
tree. The tree was puffy with white
blossoms and filled with bees. The air pleasantly
perfumed.
Sweet, sweet spring.
This year, I have thought about
that last good day each time I stepped outside to check on the tree’s progress.
Ten years is a lot longer and a
lot shorter time that you might think, and soon the tree will bloom in full.
First Mayday Blossoms
— Mitchell Hegman
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