This week I learned that the coconut palm I planted in my parents’ backyard when I was 15 years old was cut down.
My mother asked an arborist to prune a mango tree in a South Florida food forest, but the “arborist” said that the reason the palm trees were yellow was because “there were termites,” and that he would cut them down. For some reason my mom didn’t call me and just had me delete it.
This tree is the one that inspired me to start growing perennials. I received a coconut seedling from my grandpa (may he rest in peace) and I planted it with my father’s permission (may he also rest in peace).
If she had called me, I could have given you other advice. I think these guys were just pitching to her. To make matters worse, they dropped a tree on top of a small Julie mango that we had planted in memory of my cousin who passed away at the age of 2, destroying that small tree as well. It had just started fruiting.
It’s all very frustrating and pointless. I really wanted to make sure coconut wasn’t just a deficiency. Judging by the destruction of mango trees the crew caused, their abilities are highly questionable. You can see the coconut palm tree in the photo from a few years ago.
Maybe it was infested with termites or terminally ill, but I wanted a chance to find out before some tree company unceremoniously murdered 32 years of family history.
Today is also my father’s death anniversary. And I found out about that tree on my birthday. It hasn’t been a great week. I work on the virtue of detachment. Nothing happens without the Lord’s knowledge, but I feel like that tree was also a member of the family. It’s hard to say goodbye.
RIP
