The story of my Apple Tree…

5 02 2010

I woke up in the morning excited and happy. I don’t remember why, but it just felt that way… Going to the kitchen to have my breakfast, something felt different. For a moment I wasn’t aware of what it was… Just a weird feeling that something was wrong!

I was having my breakfast, chatting with my mum, laughing and all this time trying to ignore the noise outside. My dad hired some men to cut the trees that are drying and can’t be saved. And then it hit me… My apple tree was gone.

The apple tree of my childhood dreams, the “place” I spent summers climbing, reading, laughing, making fun of my grandmother… The apple tree that always had the best apples, the most beautiful flowers when it was blooming, a scent that always made me feel at home… My apple tree, the symbol of my childhood dreams, memories and happiness.

I am 25 now and this was the tree that has always been there. I had my swing attached to it and I still remember how powerful I felt the first time I climbed in it… I must have been 6 or 7. And now it’s gone. And I feel this regret… I do believe that some trees deserve to die on their own…

I asked my dad why he cut it and he told me that it was too old and dry and couldn’t be saved. It seems that while I was away it got sick or something… not that apple trees get sick but you know what I mean… And now it’s gone… another symbol that tells me I’m not a kid anymore…

Its weird how when we are kids all we want is to grow up and when we grow up we do our best to keep the child inside alive… I want my apple tree back, and the black cherry tree and the plum tree…  and my grandmother the way she used to be…




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