After the freeze, I posted a question on “Nextdoor” about our Kent Mango trees. I asked; are they beyond saving? They were so badly burned in the bitter frost even though I covered them and wet them. A gentlemen posted a response to cut them to the stump and they might grow back.

I hesitated for a month or two. I first cut the leaves, then the branches, then finally all the way to the stump. It’s been a month or two now, maybe even three.

I have lost track of time since Sherri has passed. I had given up on the two little Kent Mango trees. Her favorite variety. It took me months to find them for her.

Lo and behold, they’ve come back.

Sherri’s gone now.

I planted these trees for her. She did get to see them and they did even bloom once, but the frost killed them. But did it really? Like Sherri, they’re still here..

Like Sherri, everything she touched, is still here, still growing, still shining.

Her physical presence was touched by something so cruel and final, and yet what she planted in this world—through love, service, grace, banana bread, courage, family, and the way she made people feel seen—did not die with the frost. It remained in the roots of everyone she loved.

It will always be.