On Saturday (3/14), Timm's memorial tree came in, a yellow tababoulia. Mom wanted it planted near our son, Nick's memorial site at Greenwood Cemetery in Orlando. The memorial area is right inside the cemetery gates. You come in on a brick road and to the right there is a rusty iron gate with some fencing. An old path leads through the gate and up a hill where a few memorial benches are scattered.
Don Price, who runs the cemetery, wants this area to become a memorial garden. People and memories are scattered up there. When you climb the hill and look back you can see the trees surrounding a lake. There are eagles, cranes and ducks. In one of the ancient trees a family of raccoons lives and in another area of the cemetery a family of red foxes shares the quadrant with a bald eagle nest. The lonely sound of a trumpeter floats in the air. An older gentleman whose wife will not allow him to practice at home lends his imperfect playing to an area that is part park and part memory. A place where the gravestones and the oak trees try to outlive each other. A place that Timm would feel comfortable in.
A group of teenagers doing community service and one young Girl Scout met at the cemetery to plant the tree and hear some of the stories of those who have been left there. The boys, eager to flex their muscles went right to work on one of the holes. The girls looked on or talked with Mom.
Although Mom paid for only 1 tree, Don was putting in 3 tababoulila trees, a yellow for Timm and 2 pink. The trees and their corresponding stakes were marked with yellow or pink sashes making the job truly teen proof. How like Timm to have teenagers take care of his tree. He would have loved to have been among them, coaching them, teaching them, joking with them. The boys worked hard, digging, planting, giving the girls a turn with the shovel. Soon all three trees were in and the young people listened as Don told them about the wild inhabitants of the cemetery. Above Nick's bench a mockingbird sang his heart out. Just outside the cemetery gates, dogs walked with their owners around another lake in a wetlands park. Next spring Timm's tree will be full of golden trumpets and our hearts will again remember our brother, son, lover and friend who was happiest outside enjoying God's beauty.
Our teenage workers putting in Timm's tree. Notice the tags on the stake and tree.
Mom sharing stories of Nick and Jaime, who were killed in an auto accident just over 2 years ago.
Mom and Jonathan, her favorite young person there.
The girl scout and her family finishing the area around one of the trees.
Don Price, a wonderful and helpful person to work with.
The mockingbird that loves to sing in a tree next to Nick's bench.
A blooming yellow tababoulia tree.
A pink tababoulia tree, the lake is behind the trees. Yes, this is part of the cemetery.
The "stick" in the foreground is one of the new trees, the other is to the left half way to the bench. Behind you is a small apartment house, to the right the graveyards and infront is a lake. Just beyond the trees is a toll road and the city.
Mom on Nick's bench with the names of his trucks, our only grandchildren so far.
Me standing at the gate, Mom is on the road taking the picture. Timm's tree is behind me.
Timm's tree, Nick's bench is just to the right.
Miss you, Timm.-- Love, Molly
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Thanks SO much, sis, for this wonderful post! Miss you too, Bro!
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