The destruction of our tree

It is night and my glands are sore, I feel feverish and I have a cough. I can hear my kids watching t.v. behind the thin wall that separates my bedroom from the family room. I am sitting up on the bed, over the burgundy fleecy blanket that belonged to my father..I think soon I will drape my shivering body in it. David is next to me working away on the lovely turn-of-the-century table we bought from a local antique store that was closing shop.

My mind is swirling right now. I am thinking of the tree that stood infront of our house since its construction in the 1940s, if not before. Yesterday it was chopped down and even though it was a relief in important ways because it would no longer threaten our safety..I thought of the home it had been for its animals. Yesterday, birds and squirrels were furiously knocking on our windows, as if to tell us how upset they were by the destruction of their home. Today, a low stump is all that remains.

Today was cold, all day. I sat in the waiting area, waiting for Ella to finish her ballet class. I went home, and immediately climbed under the covers where I have spent most of the day. I am exhausted, my thoughts are slowly fading into the darkness that seeps its way in at night.