The Lucy Tree

My in-laws came into town today to help us plant what our children have named, “The Lucy Tree” in honor of our dog, Lucy, who recently died.   My Mother-in-law thought it would be nice to have Lucy cremated and then buried in the back yard.   My husband and I thought we should get something sizable enough to plant/place where we were burying the ashes so that it wouldn’t get overgrown by the wild growth in our natural area or cut down by accident by our yard crew when they cleared out the natural area from time to time.

Last week we went to a garden and plant store in the area and my son, for an unknown reason, honed in on a fir-type tree, hidden behind some larger trees, in the back of one of the rows.  He was decisive, he was confident—this was Lucy’s tree.   My daughter decided to hug the tree.   She hugged the prickly branches and decided she agreed with my son.    As for me—I loved the tree.

It wasn’t a typical tree.  It had grown with a curved trunk.   It was a fir tree, but it looked welcoming and friendly.   It was also a dwarf tree, only growing to six feet or so, which I think is rather appropriate for a long-haired Chihuahua who never weighed more than eleven pounds.

We brought the tree home with instructions on hole digging dimensions and some bags of soil to mix in with the clay we knew we’d be digging in.   We watered the tree and then waited until today to plant and bury ashes.

We all agreed on a spot just behind the play structure because any time the children were out swinging or playing, Lucy was always sitting in the shade under the structure, watching them and enjoying the outside.

The hole took a while to dig as the dirt had been well packed down by the heavy machine that did the final grading of our yard.   The dirt had mostly been from where our basement was dug out, having been pushed backwards to make our yard flat.   To keep it flat and reduce erosion, the ground had been packed down to a level of firmness I’d like to call “mean hard” after trying to dig in it today.

The hole eventually was dug and the tree was ready.   We let the children pour Lucy’s ashes in the bottom the hole and then stir them in with some soil using a trowel.   We planted the tree and talked about how much Lucy would be in our thoughts and how she was in a happy place now.   We said a little prayer and then everyone helped to fill in the dirt around the tree.   I love knowing Lucy will be with us in our back yard for years to come.

The Big Boy Update:  After the tree was planted and everyone was gone to get ready for lunch, I got this picture of my son, who didn’t want to leave yet.   He loved Lucy and he is a sensitive little guy, but there was also a trowel and a big pile of red clay.   I think he’d still be putting scoops of dirt on the tree right now if I hadn’t told him he had tom come in.

 
The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter was interested in the whole Lucy Tree process, but she didn’t really want to participate.   She delicately touched the ashes in the hole and was quite thoughtful throughout the entire time.