Oh how it hurts my heart to tell you that Gracie Lee’s favorite mimosa tree is dying. Fans of The Accidental Salvation of Gracie Lee probably realize if the tree is Gracie’s favorite, I love it as well. The mimosa tree I’m referencing is in the front yard of her (my) childhood home on the farm.
Sad. Sad. Sad. There are so many memories wrapped around the branches of this tree.
For both Gracie Lee and me.
Can a lifetime of memories suffocate a living thing?
Hope not.
Mimosas are considered “trash trees” because they choke out native plants. In general, they aren’t long lived trees. They peak at fifteen years and decline thereafter.
But Gracie’s tree? Who can really determine the lifespan of a mimosa tree in Mississippi County, Arkansas? (I’ve long held that MissCo is not like other places, but that’s another post for another time…)
Our mimosa has been growing and thriving in the front yard for as long as I can remember. And that’s quite some time.
To every thing there is a season…
My childhood impressions were of her lacy, fern-like leaves and pink feathery blossoms smelling faintly of cotton candy and cucumbers, quirky in style as though dreamed up by Dr. Seuss himself. Miss Mimosa added a little whimsey to our flat delta land which was forever plowed and planted in straight row crops. Even though she didn’t have the strongest arms in the front yard, her limbs were sufficient to cradle two curious farm girls who often perched inside her branches watching the world drift slowly by.
Trash tree? Fiddle-dee-dee.
Not to us.
And never to Abby and Gracie Lee.
When Staci and I tired of making mud pies, we collected her bean pods in an old bucket and pretended to cook supper with them, stirring them with a stick. She provided the most magical shade for tea parties, better than the plum tree, better than a clothesline tent made of wind-dried bed sheets. When sunlight filtered through her pink canopy, I swear pixie dust scattered all around us.
A time to plant; and a time to pluck up that which has been planted…
Maybe our mimosa has finally given up because no one has climbed her in such a long time. No tea parties. No using her trunk as home base.
Or maybe the entire reason she lived such an abnormally long life was because once Abby and Gracie (and Staci and I) grew out of the tree-climbing phase, she was truly allowed to flourish. And until recently, she has enjoyed the quietude of her golden years, touched only by rain, wind, pollen, the occasional bird that rests on her branches.
Yes, I’m a tree hugger. I’ve been called worse.
Momma and I recently discussed what to do. We decided that even though she may never bloom again, we aren’t going to cut her down. She still provides a home for lichen and fungi and a haven for birds and squirrels.
Who knows, maybe she’ll eventually collapse to the ground right where she’s lived her whole life. Seems fitting. Dust to dust and all.
Please don’t lecture me about mimosas, how we shouldn’t grow them, and how I shouldn’t romanticize them on my blog. It’s not like I advocate buying or planting one. To those who say they are prone to insect and disease problems, I believe you.
Even so, I happen to love Gracie Lee’s tree. And maybe, just maybe, we actually had the one stellar mimosa in the land of mimosa trees.
Yes, I will continue to have a soft spot for mimosas growing along the roadsides in the Ozarks. And that’s okay. Those soft spots keep us vulnerable, allow us to remember, make us human.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
That’s so sad but you have written some beautiful words here to honor your beloved tree. I’m glad you are allowing her to stand as long as she can. Lecture? How dare anyone criticize! Very fitting musical pairing.
Thanks Colene. There are critics everywhere:)
Sorry for your loss. We lost a Japanese Maple over the winter, one of a pair in our front yard. Totally unexpected, it was fine and in full glory last fall. Trees are one thing in the forest, but quite another in our yards. They are a marker, a sentinel, almost like an old friend, reliably thriving where they are planted. Until they don’t thrive any more.
We lost a Japanese maple in our Fayetteville yard this spring, too. Planted another tree yesterday!
I love our mimosa tree, and she will stand. She warms my heart and soul.
All your trees may drown if that water doesn’t drain soon…
We also had a mimosa tree in our front yard on the farm in Mississippi. Loved it!!! It died years ago and Daddy replaced it with a crepe Myrtle. I now have about 10 crepe myrtles in my back yard that came from that Mississippi tree!!!!
Oh wow, that’s pretty cool Ms. June!
I grew up on the prairie with few trees. Landscaping hadn’t been “invented” in my neck of the world. If you were lucky you might have an apple tree and a cherry tree. The mimosa in our side yard was the most beautiful and delicate tree I had ever seen. Sadly it is gone but not forgotten. The flowers, the leaves and the sweet smell are one of my favorite memories.
Obviously they must be survivors if they grow on the prairie, right?
So beautifully written Talya. We had a Mimosa tree in our childhood I felt exactly the same way about. I loved tucking the sweet blossoms behind my ears. We were constantly perched on its limbs and my brother once fell and broke his arm – but it didn’t stop our climbing. We draped sheets over lawn chairs to make tents in the shade of her branches. Mimosa trees always make me smile. We need more of them to brighten our days. So glad you and your momma are allowing yours to fade into the earth in the place she has loved for years.
Thank you Nancy. I’m finding that so many people had a favorite mimosa!
The more I read, the more I understand why I like you so much! I also LOVE ? trees! And we had a mimosa in our back yard when I grew up in Oak Cliff ( Dallas). Loved climbing trees when I was a kid and had my Senior portrait done standing by that tree too. We lived in the same house my entire life – so I have lots of good backyard memories with my family and friends. Reading this brought it all back. Happy Easter Talya!
Thank you Susie and Happy Easter to you! We have good friends who live in Oak Cliff. The most beautiful part of Dallas in my opinion!
What lovely tribute to your mimosa tree. I love the mood you created as you described your childhood memories surrounding her. She looks like the perfect climber for two little girls. I’m glad you’re letting her stand. We are doing the same with that old oak in our back yard. Terry keeps trimming dead limbs and praying he’ll hang in there another year. We were told that it may have been injured when our house was built in the early 60s.