Yesterday, I saw our mail lady for the first time since we lost Mr. Pine. And wouldn’t you know, the first thing she asked was why we cut him down. She said she’s been doing our route for 28 years and he had been there the whole time. She never saw him when he was small. He had always been big.
I apologized, said it wasn’t a decision we wanted to make. I told her he was sick.
“Well, bless your heart,” she said as she pulled out of the driveway. Some of you may know southernisms, but for those who don’t: “bless your heart” is a polite way of insulting someone.