The Maple Tree and Missing Buckley

There is a maple tree in front of my bedroom window.  We planted it when we first moved into this house, more than twenty-five years ago.  I’ve watched it grow into a beautiful, mature tree.  This tree has been with me through a lot of life -  through both joyful and challenging times.  Each fall, it’s one of the last trees to turn, and when it does, it turns the most incredibly bright, vibrant red.   When the light is just right, my entire bedroom is infused with a red glow from the tree.  The photo above was taken two years ago at its peak.  This glory only lasts for a few days, then the leaves all fall off almost overnight.   I look forward to the tree turning color each year – it’s such a constant in a life that is filled with so much change.

I knew I would have a difficult time with the tree turning this year.  This time last year, Buckley was still with me.  In fact, the photo of her on the cover of the book shows the tree at its peak in the background.  I’ve found that the first year after you lose someone you love is always the most difficult.  There are so many “first’s” without that pet or that person, and some are more poignant than others.  I already made it through my first Christmas without Buckley – that came so close to her passing that I was still in the throes of the initial deep grief, and Christmas was just another tough day in a series of tough days.  I celebrated my first birthday without her in May.   By then, the raw grief had abated.  I was also deeply immersed in writing the book, which was a big part of my healing process. 

But for some reason, this first turning of the maple tree without her is hitting me hard.  Perhaps it’s because of the photo on the book cover - it’s my favorite photo of her, and it’s become an almost iconic image.  I still vividly remember the day I took it – it was a warm, sunny day, the window was open, and she was enjoying the breeze wafting in through the screen while she was relaxing on her favorite window perch.  Perhaps it’s affecting me so deeply because the anniversary of her passing is getting closer.  Whatever it is, I can barely look out my window without getting teary-eyed, and I miss her more right now than I have for most of this past year.

But along with the ache of missing her, there’s also a feeling of celebration.  She not only lives on in my heart each and every day, she now lives on in Buckley’s Story.  My hope is that her joyful spirit will touch my readers.