There's a tree that's as old as my aunt.
My grandmother Paula Legaspi Lantano went home to her hometown in Barangay Ambalayat, Tagudin, Ilocos Sur in January 1948 from working in Manila to give birth to her first-born. There, she planted a chico tree right by their then wooden house. Until now, it stands firm with broad branches that frame one side of the now concrete house.
My aunt knew of its existence even if she has not been there more than twice since she was born. Still, it's that soulful, grounded connection one has knowing that a tree was planted for you.
Perhaps it's too late to have a tree as old as I am. Yet I would like to have a tree as old as when my eyes were opened to the joys of farming. So today, I enlisted my father and my sister to plant trees. We planted pili nut, kamias, kalamansi, and fire trees.
It's never too late and never too early to be planting roots where one may never be settling forever. It's always an honor to plant trees.
When some ten, twenty, thirty, forty years come and this fire tree blooms with its orange splendor, I'll always remember when and how everything started here at Lawang Bato.
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