George’s tree in blossom (2008)
Years ago I planted a cherry tree in memory of my life-partner George in New River Walk, Islington. It is by the river, on the far bank, and was once set in a grassy bank with flower beds in front and behind it.
The first tree got vandalized, as did a seat opposite in his memory. A replacement tree died, so this is the third tree. It seems to have been planted more or less where the other trees were, but bushes have now grown around it, and the plaque in his memory is partly hidden by weeds. As the far bank of the river is normally inaccessible to the public, and as the gardeners no longer do their job properly, the weeds and bushes are never cut back. The old gardeners used to plant flowers round the tree, mow the grass and really make it look nice. Now they don’t even speak or understand English, so when I asked them last week to clear the weeds in front of the plaque they just looked at me apparentlyÂ incomprehending. Such is the state of England today I’m afraid. I saw another gardener today, obviously a foreigner too, so I didn’t even bother to ask again. They have no intention ofÂ tending the other bank, just letting it grow wild, and that’s that. A shame, as it looked so pretty when the tree was first planted with flower-beds around it and neatly cut grass.
Further along a few years ago was a nice rockery with loads of flowers, but that too looks neglected now. I guess it’s more natural looking, but wonder if this is deliberate policy or just laziness – perhaps the gardeners can’t be bothered to unlock the gate, mow the lawns, cut back the bushes, plant flowers and weed the far bank of the river.
No doubt it’sÂ my fault for agreeing to have the tree planted in an inaccessible spot where I couldn’t look after it myself. It was suggested it would be safer from vandals that side of the river, but they got to it anyway, even ripped the plaque out once (this is the second one which is now partly covered by weeds). Mine was the first memorial tree in that park I believe, now there are several, and many memorial benches, and the vandalism appears to have stopped now a nearby council estate has been rebuilt.
Nevertheless, the tree is still there, albeit growing crooked, which could look quite picturesque as it matures. It usually blossoms early around my birthday, March 20th, but everything being late this year due to the long, cold Winter it was not in blossom when I visited last week.
However yesterday, March 31st, I visited again and it was in full blossom. I took some photos as always when it is in blossom, and sat and thought about George. HeÂ sometimes sends me messages telepathically when I’m near his tree, and by this and other methods at other times.
Yesterday I felt he was proud of me for things I am doing, and something about ‘rain days’ kept coming into my mind. Possibly meaning that we need some rainy days both literally and metaphorically in order for things to blossom. If life were all plain sailing, all sunshine with no showers, then we would learn nothing. It hit me later – the phrase was ‘rain days’ rather than the usual ‘rainy days’. We have Sundays of course, and the day George died was a Sunday. Indeed the sun was shining and it was very warm. But for us it would have been perhaps better named ‘Rainday’ as it was very traumatic for both of us, yet since his passing we have both moved on and blossomed in our own worlds. I learnt so much from him when he was alive, and even more since he passed over. Indeed yesterday was a ‘rain day’ in-so-much as there was some rain, but the sun came out briefly as I sat looking at his tree in blossom. Symbolism everywhere, but often we are too busy and preoccupied to notice such things.
I asked him about someone I’m fond of who he onceÂ indicated might be my new life-partner some day. This was up at the tree in late blossom time. Another year he told me up the tree that he knew this person had just had a baby daughter, and gave me her name (which I’d forgotten so I couldn’t make sense of the message at the time). Today he told me he couldn’t say for certain whether this person, who I spoke to briefly on the phone two days ago, would ever be free to move in with me, and if he was whether he would decide to do so. As with all Spirit predictions such things are only possibilities, because we all have free will. We can alter likely future events by the decisions we take. I did get the message that it would be moving out of this person’s comfort zone to ever fully come out as gay, and brave as he was at times, he may never be ready for this. Whatever happens, this person certainly helped me get over George’s death and move on, and for that I’ll be eternally grateful to him.
As I walked away from the beautiful blossoming tree, it came to me that there is a replica of this tree by the river somewhere in the next world. Either in the garden of the house George lives in, or nearby. This may sound stupid to those who don’t know about such things, but when we pass over most of us move to an Earth-like environment where homes, places and things we were fond of, or dreamed of, are created or re-created. Everything in that world is created by thought, and (see article on Biocentrism) quantum scientists are now beginning to realize that everything in our Universe seems to be created by thought, Mind or Consciousness too.
Certainly that little narrow park with the river running thru it is a very tranquil place in the city, and I love it. George showed it to me years ago, having discovered this oasis of peace when living in Islington soon after he moved to London, long before he met me. I love going there in the Spring time, especially when the blossoms are out from March-May.
I listened to some tracks from George’s record collection tonight, as he used to send me messages thru the lyrics. I always pick the records/tracks blindly, since our musical tastes were so different and I know little about the artists or the songs. Helpfully some of the lyrics are printed, as I have difficulty understanding them otherwise. Anyway the four tracks (from two albums) I played seem to confirm the messages I received earlier. And perhaps I should start playing his records again, or even my own records. I rarely play much music at all nowadays, the computer seems to have taken over my life at home.