He was named after Lloyd Dobbler, from
So I had this plant - well, bush - definitely not a tree. He was about two feet tall when I bought him. Then boy, did he grow. He got bigger and bigger and bigger, I had to re-pot him a couple of times.
Eventually while living in Hamtramck, I put him on the porch. As much as I hate to say it, I was tired of taking care of him. So I let him go.
When I let go, I do not kid. I did not water that plant for a year.
He Would. Not. Die.
Eventually the guilt overwhelmed me, and I started to take care of Lloyd again. He flourished. In no time flat he was four feet tall and three feet wide, with no end in sight. He did not need me to survive, but my attention helped him to grow.
This, to me, is a poignant analogy to the truly great friends in my life. Many times I may forget to keep in touch, and then neglect further out of guilt. The thing is, as we are true friends, that connection does not die. No matter what, be it drought, tornado, or flood, when I think of them, I smile. And they of me. Within five minutes of our next conversation, we know our connection survives, intangible as it may be.
You know who you all are, and the knowledge that you are there means the world to me.