16 PUNCHMAGAZINE.COM {sloane citron} had other ideas. They are professionals—real estate agents and designers—and they wanted to give the home more than a cosmetic facelift. Since I did not buy into this idea— mind you, I really hate change of almost any kind—it became their project. Other than a few visits where I mentioned the changes I disliked (to angry comments directed back at me), I had nothing to do with the entire thing. Well, I did get to choose the size of the TVs. Recently, I swung by to get our mail and saw that the front yard had been leveled in its entirety and so, curious and concerned, I went around the side to the back, dodging compact tractors, piles of rubble and collections of tools. And then, in a breathtaking, disheartening moment, I saw that my beloved hawthorn tree lay in pieces on the raw earth. Honestly, I felt the blow as deeply as if one of my dogs had died. Behind the fallen tree were three workers, presumably the ones who had done the deed. My eyes got misty, and the lead man saw my distress. He looked at me with kindness and understanding, this man who spent his time among plants and digging things from the soil. We stood there for a few minutes, me trying to digest the situation and the men waiting quietly. Finally, looking at one of the larger tree pieces, I asked the man, in my best Spanish, to put it in the area behind the pool equipment. As I drove off, still bereft, my mind wandered, and I decided that somewhere in this reconstructed home and yard I would find a place for this remnant of the tree that had persevered while I built our home and our little children grew into adults, watching over us as the years rolled by and doing its best to stay by my side. In 1996, having outgrown our first home in Redwood City, we bought a tear-down in Menlo Park, where we would build a home large enough to raise our four small children and carry us through the years. We barely had the resources to buy the existing home and to build a new one, but with enough negotiating and persistence, we managed to get it done. If I told you what we paid to build the house, you would laugh, because it would just about cover the cost of redoing a kitchen these days. When we finished the home and had a pool put in (something that was my first priority), we had no money for landscaping. Back in those days of publishing, there was much bartering, something I generally avoided. But it was our only option. I worked to find a company that would do a trade: landscaping work in exchange for advertising pages. After several phone calls, I found a company that was willing. It would later turn out that they had done a miserable job (like not turning and amending the rock-hard soil that came with the house) but at least they were a willing partner. In the backyard, there were trees lining the west fence—a majestic oak and several nondescript smaller trees. I think the landscape professional referred to a couple of them as “volunteers.” He did point out one, “the hawthorn,” and immediately suggested that it should be “gone in a second.” Its trunk, about six inches in diameter, was somewhat hollowed out and inside the hollow was climbing ivy. The dark brown trunk was full of prominent ridges and fissures with an exfoliating, chunky bark. To me, it was perfect. For some reason, I formed a bond with this simple, small tree. It’s the kind of thing I do. This tree had suffered wounds but did its best to stay present, with no give-up in its nature. And despite its damage, it managed to exhibit charm and endurance and beauty, its leaves and flowering blooms presenting a canopy of white during the spring. I immediately told the landscaper that he was not to cut down the hawthorn. I didn’t feel the need to elaborate or share my immediate connection with the odd little tree. Our backyard landscaping was complete in one month, and though it may not have been done properly, it was done, and we were all happy to have a large backyard with a swimming pool and a hawthorn tree to accompany our new home. About a year ago, my wife and my daughters decided that our family home and our landscaping were worn and outdated. I thought it was fine, though a broken window or two could have used some repair and we did need to have the leaking roof fixed. But they the hawthorn tree
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