My Tree

Friday was a bad day.

We were getting ready to have our neighbors over for dinner when M came up the stairs and told me that the deer had eaten our little tree. I thought he meant a sad holly we planted a few years ago that just can't seem to keep up. He didn't. He meant the little tree in the backyard that my mom gave us in May. The little tree that I almost think of as my son.

I cried. I'm still crying.

I know he's not really in the tree, but I feel like I failed him. I went out during the snow storms to make sure the little tree was still upright, I watered it all summer. I love that tree.

And I failed him. I left it unprotected and now it looks like a sad stick in the ground.

I cried the kind of sobs that make husbands cry. He tried to calm me down because he didn't want me to do any harm to our new baby, but I couldn't stop. Then he did what men do best. He fixed the problem. He stood up and said, "Let's go." We went to home depot and bought a little wire fence and he installed it immediately, even though he should have been preparing dinner for our friends.

I'm still so sad about this, but I can't stop feeling grateful for M. I heard him go outside this morning to check on the tree. He already is the best father in the world. I am so lucky to have him.