Until after her diagnosis in 2012, Liberty asked for a willow tree. She wanted it because of Harry Potter’s “Womping Willow” not because willows are my very, very favorite trees.
This tree grew. And grew. Flourished. Truly flourished. We would sing concerts to the sister tree during the summers.
We adorned Her with fairy lights that Libby loved. Strand after strand after strand. Until someone cut several of the light strands, it was a gift to drive home after school and Libby would be giggly over all the fairies living in her tree.
So, we built a fence to protect the tree and the fairies. The willow with the fence.
In the spring of 2021, I noticed that her tree was not leafing the way it had in the past. I refused to talk about the decline of Libby’s tree with Rachael. Refused. I didn’t know why then.
Now I know that the tree was telling me what my heart couldn’t handle. That damn tree was still hanging on this fall with only a few branches clinging with any leaves to offer to the fall.
Just like her tree, Liberty is stubbornly hanging on. Today, January 28, is the tenth day that Libby has refused food and water. Her beautiful heart has been at race pace for days now. She is beyond tiny. She is no longer responding most of the time. Her body is done- her heart isn’t.
She’s still pushing against the wind.
We’ve told her it’s okay. We will be okay. Blessedly, so many have come to tell her she can go. Yet, she’s holding steady. Her Grandma Geva and Papa are waiting. Damn these stubborn genes.
This is terrible. Grateful for the time. For me, this level of decline has helped me reconcile letting her go. She has earned her Liberty ten fold.
💜🐎💜🐎 Liberty ride with the horses home.
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