Tuesday, August 26, 2008
The seed interrupting the last bite of her grapefruit was sprouting green. Might grow, Tess thought, slipping it into water. It soon rooted.Her amateur botanist husband placed it into a bonzai pot." You can't bonzai a grapefruit tree!"" Watch me," Bart replied. The tree sat on the windowsill, dwarfed, its roots trapped within a shallow pot. Tess empathized.It survived the years; observing. Children grew and married-grandchildren crayoned next to its ceramic tray. Attempts to grow stunted by routine trimming of its thick roots.Pleas to set it free denied, as was Tess's request for freedom from a love no longer blooming. Life continued except for Tess and the tree, their thirsts and needs entrapped within a prison not of their making.She found Bart face down in his garden; sudden death from emphesema. Tess felt rooted in grief for love unfullfilled, forever stunted - robbed by a lifetime of might-have-beens.One sunny morning, preceded by overcast days, Tess repotted the minicule tree. It first appeared lost in the huge vase. Soon it began to thrive. Within the year it stood six feet tall, forming blossoms. For Tess and the grapefruit tree came promise of long awaited rebirth- a new beginning.