THIS EASTER OF DOGWOOD JOY
Last edited Sun Apr 20, 2014, 06:46 PM - Edit history (4)
I think a lot of my father who passed suddenly without warning. He passed in the middle of the night, suffering a massive heart attack. He was only 50 years old, so as you can imagine, this loss impacted his family pretty hard.
His first wife, my mother, also died of a heart attack in the middle of the night. She was only 28 years old and left behind four young children. The oldest child was seven years old, the youngest was nine months. She was a beautiful, loving woman, a joy to her family and friends.
To his credit, this 28 year-old man made many sacrifices to keep his family together. It was extremely difficult because he had a low-paying job in Knoxville, Tennessee, working as a milk man. He did not make enough following the loss of my mother to pay for child care while he worked his job. Many in the family suggested he had no other choice but to put us in foster homes or adopt us out. This he steadfastly refused to do. As our only surviving parent, my father became our everything.
And so we all moved in with my grandparents, where we stayed until my father remarried a couple of years later. He moved his new wife and his four children from Tennessee to the DC metropolitan area. And here we have lived for decades. I have looked back on those early years and thought not too many people would have had the determination my father had in protecting the unity of his family while still grieving over the loss of the woman he loved and the mother of his four children. But he persevered and made it work. These words are written to explain why he was so important to us.
Five years ago, thinking about the sacrifices he had made for me I wanted to pay a small tribute to him. He loved many things, but one thing he often mentioned was how beautiful the dogwood trees in Tennessee were and he missed seeing them in this area. I decided to plant a dogwood tree in my father’s memory. I ordered just a very small twig-like dogwood tree from a nursery in Tennessee. I had no gardening skills under my belt, and so I thought I should start out small and keep my expectations low for success.
When the little tree arrived, I dug a reasonably sized hole, planted the tree, fertilized it, and put beautiful reddish mulch around it. I surrounded the mulch with decorative bricks. I tended it everyday, checking its progress. It started to take root and grow. I named it My Daddy Dogwood tree.
The next year, it was gaining height and looking healthy. Then disaster struck. My next door neighbor’s little son lost control of his bike and ran my little tree down. It was broken near the base. I was devastated. Two of my neighbors knowing the sentimental value of the tree to me came over and patched the tree back together. They told me it had only a small possibility of survival.
Each year I have tended to the tree with care. It sprouted another trunk at the point where the base had been severely severed, and from that trunk grew a mid-size tree. But it never bloomed. I had resigned myself to accepting this was the way it would be.
Until today. On this Easter, I discovered from my window five little blooms on my Daddy Dogwood tree. I ran out and looked the tree over carefully, and there are more blooms at the top. I cried when I saw them. The blooms are white with pink edges.
Happy Easter, Dad. Your dogwood tree is beautifully in bloom.
Sam
= new reply since forum marked as read
I am so very touched at your story...
Happy Easter to you, your whole family, and to your Dad's dogwood tree.
I am so glad you appreciated my story. I cried when I wrote it. I do not know what is wrong with me today, but when I saw those blooms on this Easter Day, I thought of them as a little miracle. It has been years in the making. And I know my father would be so pleased.
These particular days of our lives have been so hard filled with so many tragedies, I guess when something small but very beautiful unexpectedly appears, it seems like just a wonderful gift.
Happy Easter to you and yours. Perhaps a beautiful gift is on its way to you as well.
Sam
This goes to the Greatest Posts, for sure. I'm going through a transitional phase now, and at 62, it's tougher than 42 or 22. But it's a great ride, and I feel blessed. That dogwood is going to thrive. I can feel the DU vibe.
So glad they look the same!
We had a dogwood tree in our little front yard in nw DC, but it and others in the neighborhood succumbed to something, and then we sold the house, so haven't had the pleasure recently.
Happy Easter and yes, do plant another for your mother!
about the Dogwood that might be of interest to you ...
http://www.democraticunderground.com/10694672
where ever you reply 
Peace to all and Happy Easter to all that believe 
Although it is far from perfect, I went outside with my camera phone and snapped a picture of one of my fragile dogwood blossoms. My neighbor told me this evening there probably would be no more blooms until next year, since the season for dogwood blooming comes early and has now ended. I pulled the limb down and snapped a photo:
Although this photo itself is not beautiful -- what it represents is.
And so are the words you have added to my thread. Thank you so much. It is my pleasure to be your friend. Happy Easter.
Sam
and found some stunning pictures, for example:
?w=590&h=331
How beautiful a place to visit this day. Thank you for your kind words and posting on my thread.
Sam
= happy dogwoods (organic)
As the tree grows keep the area from the drip line to the trunk with a light mulch ..... (shredded hardwood
is the best) no more then 2 to 3 " thick ..... keep the mulch pulled back from the trunk by about an 1" or so
virginia blue bells, trout lily, and trillium can be added as the area under the tree grows.
Water it once every 10 days to 2 weeks (if dry) with a hose running @ a slow drip for about
20 to 30 minutes ...... now until late august / early sept. and then do not water again
except for 1 time around thanksgiving for an hour (if no rain or snow pack)
Happy Cornus!
good advice
It occurs to me that the dogwood suffered a near-lethal blow, just like your father did, with the loss of your mother at such a young age. Talk about "broken at the base."
But like the dogwood, he hung in there and though it took years, he was able to once again have his own family together with the support a mother could give it.
It's no mistake that your tree bloomed on Easter. I think it's your father, letting you know he's still with you. The blooms are symbolic of how he feels about you and your development as a human being. Interesting that it's five blooms on the part of the tree you first saw--maybe one for each of you and your siblings, plus your dad.
Cher
I'm growing plants with my Dad. It's the one thing we can do together without clashing - gardening. Grilling (and cooking certain foods) causes feuds because we are both hard headed, but mostly, end up making something great.
I must admit, though, at first glance I saw "Dagwood Tree" and thought it was going to be about a huge sandwich LOL.
Must be time for some lunch, and peace Sam. This was beautiful. You did your father proud.
I'm liberal, he's conservative. I love him, though, and we can do some good things together like growing plants, building things and occasionally cooking.
I agree that in the long run, family means more than anything.
Peace be with you also, Sam
finding me reading "The Ugly American" in my bedroom downstairs. You will not believe it. But on this day, we are just remembering the blooms.
Sam
Blessing to you on this day. What a beautiful story.
I'm sure your Daddy's spirit is with you today, as your spirit must be with others.
Happy easter. I hope we can see pictures of that beautiful tree so filled with love from you and the friends you have that helped this happen. 
Last edited Mon Apr 21, 2014, 12:27 AM - Edit history (1)
My father wanted a picture of himself with his four children during that time the conversations were being had as to whether or not he should put us in foster homes or have us adopted out. Please understand, this was never his idea but was the advice family members were telling him was the only solution. He wanted the picture taken for himself, cementing that we were a family.
(sorry about the spacing problems - imported from Photobucket and I don't know how to crop....)
You can see from the picture, although it not a very good one and pretty dated at that, how young of a man he was and the responsibility he had to shoulder on his own. I am the one on the left. The baby on my father's lap was just nine months old. He is my brother who now lives in Florida.
Here is a picture of my beloved Mom and Dad when they were sweethearts. She was petite, 5 foot 1, with a lot of Irish influence in her looks, auburn hair and sea-green eyes; he was 6 foot 3, and somewhere in his ancestry 5 generations preceding his birth, a man had married a Cherokee Indian female. My father was the only person in the family that actually looked Native American. They were two people who loved music and loved singing together, and truly loved each other and their children.
I miss them both everyday and am happy on this Easter to be sharing their story with my DU family. It has been very therapeutic.
They also loved the dogwood trees in overabundance in Tennessee.
Sam
Peace and good things to you Sam. This living experience takes a support group.
*sniffle*
saw no dogwood, but did get this, at the city park:
and noticed others as I drove to southern MD today. May try to catch them for you, but here's today's:
Thank you for sharing all of this with us.
I went to DC for the March for Women's Lives back in Dubya's first term. It was late April and outside our hotel the trees were in glorious bloom. I thought those were dogwoods, but as a Santa Barbaran, I really don't know for sure. I know jacarandas in their purple glory, instead.
The photos of dogwoods are absolutely beautiful. Long may your little tree bloom. Try that experiment you mentioned to see if you can root a cutting. If you ever have to move, do plant another. My favorite SIL took loquat seeds from her grandma's tree many decades ago, and has planted seeds from that line everywhere she has lived in California. I have one of its descendants in my backyard now -- the blossoms are insignificant, but it bears fruit like mad, and I think of my SIL as a kind of Johnny Appleseed.
Happy Easter -- Happy Vernal Equinox -- season of rebirth and flowering.
