A block from Thomas and Alison’s house in Portland, this maple tree stood out as the most vibrant in the whole neighborhood. I stopped to take the picture because, in between the storm clouds, the sun illuminated its leaves to blinding shades of red and orange. Mainly I took this picture for Marcus. He would have insisted on stopping to document this stunning site. I could just hear him saying, “Look at the colors! Look at the light!”and then fiddling with his camera to get just the right shot. I used to feel alive and vibrant like this tree. That was when the world was normal, before Marcus died, before I knew what grief felt like.
BEFORE
AFTER
Now, with my so called leaves blasted off my branches, I try to remind myself that life mirrors the seasons. For every ending, a new beginning. For every winter, a spring. And so, I will take a cue from nature, hibernating — and healing — until the buds force their way out and open up into blossoms. And, yes, that’s the same tree as above, just one week later, proving once again that the only thing constant in life is change.