((Seriously, though. Victor bawled his eyes out and was inconsolable for at least a week after the second parent Washington navel orange tree, which had been transplanted to the Mission Inn in 1909, died. I did not pick this particular sad memory to write about just because of tonight’s tree pun fad, though that’s probably why it came to mind.))
Anonymous said: ✝ sad memory
December 5th, 1922
I can hardly believe that it’s gone. I shouldn’t have to believe it, but that would only be a denial of a true sad fact and a loss of such a cornerstone of my history.
Surely I was only being idealistic, to think that one of the very trees that brought me from a small dusty town to my current prominence could only thrive on the grounds of Inn that best exhibits who I am now! How could that not be a beautiful and perfect display of all that Riverside was, and is, and will be!
That is exactly what I thought, and wrote, when president Roosevelt replanted the tree! I checked my own words! But for all I identified with this tree, I suppose my own roots cannot be in the precise same location as my fruit-bearing branches. How foolish, to try and separate these things to bring them together, when it means I end up with only this poor dead stump! I’m sorry, Aunt Eliza, that I was so overzealous as to let this happen!
I would have never thought myself one to cry over a tree, but I have proven myself wrong here as well.