Today I killed a Bonsai.

For reasons I don’t quite understand, my bonsai died, though, I doubt it was the *peep’s fault. One day I walked out and the top third was all rust color. Then a few days later, the middle turned. Then at last the bottom turned, and it was gone.

The tree had always been cared for in the proper manner. It was 4 when I recieved it, and about 16 when it died. It was given to me one Christmas by 2 friends, one of whom died the following spring.

I must confess I felt a certain obligation  to keep it alive, as if the friendship was continuing through the little tree. In time the other friend moved away. After about 5 years, we lost contact. It’s over 2 since there’s been a text or tweet or any sign of life.

As I looked at the tree last night, I thought, why am I hanging on to something that’s dead? And so I went to the market and picked up some cheap and cheerful potted plants –a  miniature red rose, two persian violets, and an orange begonia — to which I  have no attachment.

This morning I plucked the dead tree from its pot (which I am keeping) and threw it out. I repotted my 99 cent flowering plants and stuck them on the bench where my bonsai had been. I felt amazingly better.

Every time I look out my kitchen window and see those happy living things between the two chaise lounges on the back porch, I think of all the good times with good friends that I’m going to have, not of the good friends I’ve lost over time.

I think we often hang on to dead things in our lives, not realizing we ought to let go. I think I’m going to be throwing out a lot of things this week. And then I’m going to invite some friends for champagne and seafood in my newly perfumed garden.

*The peep continues to reside al fresco, under the rosebush.


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