My mother and I went up to Arkansas in 1971 a few weeks after my father died, to visit the cabin they had built there. She and I dug up a small cedar to bring home for a Christmas Tree. My father had brought home a tree every Christmas for each of us five children and planted them in our front yard. Three of them survive to this day, and this tree for daddy has survived, but never grew right. It has had plenty of problems and has been struck by lightning. It is so bad that now I am going to have to remove it. I will save a lot of the wood for projects and mementos.
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