If you live near Washington, DC, the arrival of the Cherry Blossoms around the Jefferson Memorial and Tidal Basin is big news. Everyone always wants to get in on predicting when the peak bloom will be, how to see them without the crowds (pretty much impossible), and when the light is best for photography. Now, as the trees are aging, there is the question of which trees will be preserved and which trees will be cut down and replaced. A short history of the cherry trees can be found here.
One little tree, affectionately named Stumpy, is due to be cut down and replaced. Like many other people, this has brought up a lot of feelings in me. Stumpy is still doing his best. Stumpy bloomed. Can’t we wait one more year? Even the Library of Congress dedicated a poem by Ada Limon (U.S. Poet Laureate) to Stumpy. It’s called “Instructions for Not Giving Up.” Please take a moment to read this powerful poem here. It’s one I’ll return to again and again. Perhaps our fascination with Stumpy reflects our own feelings about the courage it takes to keep going even when we feel worn out and broken.
This morning, as I sat with my son discussing the many pressures, challenges, and difficulties of life along with the humble joy of his first grader’s slideshow about llamas, it was talk of Stumpy that brought tears. “I feel like Stumpy,” he said with tears rolling down his cheeks. Tears from life’s hardness and its tender moments. Stumpy, reminding us to keep trying, that there is beauty. Stumpy, also reminding us that there are seasons of hardship, of loss, of grief. Hope runs through it reminding us that, as Ada Limon wrote, we’ll take all of it.
a place of safety, support, and beauty.
pelicansandprose 
I know Stumpy so I was eager to read what you would choose to say about it and you did not disappoint. The segue to the conversation with your son was very moving. (And thank you for sharing the poem, and its message, in your piece.)
Isnt spring the season with the most mental health challenges?
I think spring is difficult for many. An acupuncturist once told me that the power energy required for nature to shift from winter (water) to spring (wood) is massive, and that we can also feel that thrust in our bodies. It may be expressed as powerful emotion such as rage, fury, or even a cleaning frenzy. Interesting.
Such a gorgeous post, this tribute to the aging tree, leading into the tenderness of your son. That poem is one of my favorites by Ada Limón, so very perfect for Stumpy, with the descriptions of cotton-candy blossoms and “a green skin
growing over whatever winter did to us, a return to the strange idea of continuous living despite the mess of us, the hurt, the empty.” Amazing that the Library of Congress dedicated it to Stumpy – for, just look at ‘him’, blooming despite all. I cannot even think of the cutting down…I feel the blade’s edge, myself.