Under An Oak Tree

Fourteen months after Stella died, we finally planted her ashes with an oak tree. I didn't do this last summer when her ashes came back because I thought I was going to be writing the first draft of her book last summer and felt she should be with me. Writing more sample essays for the Field Notes book put an end to that plan, or at least, paused it (pawsed it?), although I did write about Stella's death while it was still fresh.
This spring, when the Pugwash Communities in Bloom had trees for sale, I decided to buy an oak tree and get it planted as soon as my mother returned from Georgia. My friend Jane wanted to be part of the moment when the tree, along with Stella's ashes and the fur I took out of the lint catcher after washing her blankets for the last time, entered the ground. This past Saturday was the day.
You'll see in the photo that Abby wanted to be part of the event as well.
We didn't plant Stella along the walking path as originally planned; Dwayne thought a better spot was next to the garden where he plants the cherry tomatoes because she spent a lot of time there, hiding behind the tomato plants, eating the fruit! It's on the way to the path so I'll see it every time I head to the plantation, and Stella's tree has a view of the osprey nest. 
And I have a view of her tree. Because of where we planted her ashes and tree, I see it every time I get in and out of bed. I did not expect that to mean as much as it does.
Despite the fact I believe in the presence of spirits, I did save some of her ashes and some of her fur in a little Irish pottery jar with a screw top so when I do get a chance, perhaps this fall, to write the first draft of her book, part of her will be in the room with me. One of those weird things that writers do.