My Dad was hospitalized this past July. He had been battling prostate cancer for 8 years. For 8 years the illness had been managed so that my Dad had a normal life.
My Dad has two passions: science and nature. He loves feeding the birds of his garden, religiously preparing the seeds and old bread crumbs that he feeds them with every morning. Gardening is a great part of his life. He gets that from his dad, my grandfather. My dad has always been gardening since the 1st day of his retirement. Planting flowers, bushes, vegetables and fruits. He has planted many fruit trees and has taken care of many older ones. My Dad and trees have had a long love relationship, deeply rooted in something almost impalpable.
But, I had no idea how deep the connection he had with the trees of his garden was until now.
A few days after his hospitalization he had to be transferred to another hospital for further diagnosis. Then the verdict fell. The cancer had metastasized to his lymphatic system. At almost 87 years of age, and in the state of health he had turned in the last few weeks, my dad took the decision to forego chemo, knowing this was the start of the ineluctable.
A couple of days later, as he was laying on his hospital bed in great emotional disarray, an apple tree fell in the garden at his home. Two large branches broke and ripped the tree trunk as well. We did not pay much attention to it and family members helped cut the tree down blaming it on the tree being old.
My Dad then got transferred to a palliative care hospital with a much better overall approach of the end of life process. But as my Dad's health continued deteriorating and all hopes of him getting better faded away, came the realization that the end was near. But you see, my Dad had always been a fighter. He decided that his body being all shut down, he could not bear the fact that his mind was still fully functioning and requested to get what's called terminal sedation; a form of sedation that allows a dying patient to sleep deeply around the clock until his body gives up.
The sedation process started yesterday. As my Mom came home from the hospital, and opened the gates to my parents property, she heard a smashing noise that stopped her in her tracks. As she cautiously drove in on the driveway, she realized that the prune tree that was standing right next to my parents bedroom had just fallen down, entirely, broken from its base, missing the house by one hair. The tree was full of fruits and yet its body had given up.
As my Dad lays in the hospital bed waiting to release his soul back to the great dimension of Consciousness, I can't help but thinking that the Gaia Theory has just been proven one more time. We are ONE. We are all connected. We are ONE giant living organism and ONE Consciousness creating the Universe.
The trees know. I hope my Dad can feel it when his time comes.