christmas tree altered photograph

in 1966, every child in grade one received a tiny seedling in june. we called it our 'grade one tree'. dad planted both my sister's and mine. this is mine now, nearly forty years later. leslie's, on the other hand, is missing. i think my dad ran over it with the lawn mower. i tell her it is a concrete symbol of my greatness. my parents have always been like this tree. 

consistent. 

rooted. 

sheltering. 

a few summers ago, a large fir tree in our back yard was growing so large it began to lean against the garage roof. my mom sawed a chunk out of the roof to accomodate the tree, rather than to cut it down. that is the metaphor of their greatness....