I originally shared the content below on my Facebook profile (on the date in the Title). To understand more about the “Facebook Memory” posts, please read About: This Blog. Click here to see a full list of the Morgan Facebook Memories.
On this Easter Sunday – in the spirit of new life, renewal, redemption, and beauty for ashes – I wanted show off our beautiful new tree in the front yard!
My Aunt and Uncle gifted it to us as a memorial to remember Morgan. It’s a Chinese Pistache, which is a fast growing tree that will reach 25-35ft tall at maturity. It has beautiful compound leaves (multiple leaflets on one leaf stem), and if the weather cooperates it will be a beautiful red in the fall!
Finding meaningful ways to remember Morgan has been a difficult challenge for us. Expecting parents spend all their time planning the nursery, picking the perfect name, reading parenting books, and trying to be as prepared as possible for a life with their new child.
Expecting parents don’t ever think about where they’d put an urn, how that urn would look with their child’s perfect name on it, or what memorial would be worthy of representing their child’s life for years to come. You can’t prepare for the unimaginable. So when the unimaginable happens – when your future plans are invaded by death and pain – the decisions that must be made are paralyzing.
So when my sweet Aunt and Uncle offered us a “Morgan Tree”, we were excited and relieved to have help making one of these unimaginable decisions.
The memorials bereaved parents choose to remember their children are all vastly different and unique – just like their children. No one can tell a bereaved parent what with be meaningful/helpful to them as they learn to keep on living. It’s something they have to figure out as they go.
Andrew and I like that a tree symbolizes growth. We can’t watch Morgan grow up, but we can watch this tree grow over the years.
Trees also symbolizes life after death. Every winter, the leaves fall and it looks as if death wins and all hope is lost.
But every spring, the leaves return and we are reminded that Christ conquered death. He promises new life. He promises He will trade is His beauty for our ashes. He promises us His joy for our sadness. He promises us hope.
So on days when I am having a hard time finding hope, I can look at the tree and remember that I’ll see Morgan again. He may not be here, but he’s not gone. His story is still being written, and even though it feels ugly right now, I have hope his story will be beautiful.
