<p>In 2009, during an art class, I was asked to draw a tree from real life. I immediately thought of a favorite tree that stood behind our home on the golf course — a tree I had long admired for its quiet strength through every kind of weather. I would often sit on the lanai and watch it sway gracefully in sunlight and storms alike.</p><p>When I went outside to sketch it for my assignment, I was heartbroken to discover it was gone — cut down and replaced by a palm. The loss of that tree mirrored the grief I was already carrying from the recent passing of my first husband, Marty. In that moment, another piece of my world felt empty.</p><p>Determined to complete the assignment, I turned to a photograph I had taken and drew the tree from memory and feeling. The finished piece combines the drawing of the tree in the center, flanked by the photograph on either side — a blending of art, remembrance, and love.</p><p>As often happens after creating a piece of art, words began to flow. From that quiet well of emotion came the poem <em>Strength and Glory &ndash; Elegy to a Tree</em>. It became both a tribute and a meditation — a reminder of how loss can lead us toward deeper connection and renewal.</p><p>This story, and the poem that followed, later became part of my book <em>Emerging Voices &ndash; Living On: A Journey Through Loss to Renewal</em>.</p><p>Even though the tree is gone, its spirit lives on — in memory, in art, and in the enduring reminder of nature&rsquo;s strength and glory.</p>