Hello In Stitches Family,
I was looking at the calendar the other day and realized it was Arbor Day. And for some reason, it made me smile.
I know… kind of a strange thing to smile about. But stay with me.
When we first bought our place in Rapid City, I remember standing outside and thinking, Where are the trees?
We both grew up in Colorado, where trees are just part of the landscape. You don’t really think about them—they’re just there. But out on the plains, it’s different. The space is wider, the wind is stronger, and trees aren’t something you can take for granted.
That first year, we decided to plant some.
And we did.
But they didn’t really grow.
So we tried again—with different trees. And those didn’t do much better either.
Because the truth is, the plains are tough. Summers are hot. Winters are cold. The wind doesn’t really stop. And sometimes, trees just aren’t meant to grow there.
We do have a few that are hanging on. Small, a little stubborn. The kind you root for because you know what they’re up against.
And it really is amazing what a few hours’ drive can change.
The Trees That Meant Something More
Thinking about Arbor Day also brought me back to my grandma.
She passed away in early 2024, and if you knew her, you knew that trees were a thing.
She was the kind of person who taught you to slow down and notice them. To appreciate a good shade tree. To admire the beauty of something simple.
She also had a very specific opinion about crabapple trees—she loved the blossoms, but absolutely did not love cleaning up the fruit.
One of her favorite things was taking the horses out when the quakies turned bright yellow in the fall. They would creak in the wind, which could be a little unsettling, but she had a way of turning it into something magical. She’d click her tongue, point things out, and before long, you were seeing it the way she did.
Not just trees—but something worth noticing.
Planting Something That Lasts
Years ago, when my dad passed away, she took us to the mountains and had each of us plant a tree for him.
Because she understood something simple but powerful:
Trees last.
They outlive us. They keep growing long after we’re gone. And somehow, they hold onto the memory of why they were planted in the first place.
So when she passed, we asked the people who loved her to plant a tree too.
Not because it was traditional. Not because it was expected.
But because it felt right.
A way to celebrate her life. To honor what she gave to all of us. To create something that would last longer than we do.
Maybe This Is What Arbor Day Is Really About
I know Arbor Day is meant to be about planting and caring for trees.
But maybe it’s also about something more than that.
Maybe it’s about remembering.
About slowing down long enough to notice what’s around us.
About planting something that will outlast us—whether that’s a tree, a memory, or the way we teach someone else to see the world.
So today, I’m thinking about the trees that didn’t grow… and the ones that did.
The ones that struggled.
The ones that stayed.
And the ones that carry a story with them.
Happy Arbor Day.
And if you have a memory of a tree that’s stayed with you, I’d love to hear it.