Yesterday morning, we had a memorial of sorts for James.  It was one of those bittersweet moments — it’s always touching to see how many people want to do something for him, and I have those, “I wish he could have seen this” feelings.  Some of them are accompanied by tears, but I’ll claim for the record that it was just sweat.  It was really hot yesterday.

James worked for the Parks and Recreation Department, and his crew planted and dedicated a tree to him in the park where James worked.

The tree in question was a burr oak, donated by one of the nurseries that the city does business with.

Bianca (with niece Taina) got permission to bury some of James’s ashes with the tree, which she put in a little box with a picture of the two of them and their dogs.  She also–this made me laugh in spite of everything–was determined to have the tree blessed, but apparently the priests at her church didn’t want to do it, so she filled a water bottle with holy water from the font and did it herself.

Popular religion at its finest.  Works for me!

This photo doesn’t even begin to capture the number of people who were there.

The guys got the tree in the ground quickly — so, we learned that the proper way to plant a tree is to get 30 people to help.

Bianca got the first shovel full.  We passed the shovel around, and after everyone had had a turn, there wasn’t much left to do.

And in the end, there is a plaque under the tree.

The original plan for Easter this year was that a bunch of us were going to gather in the park.  James passed the night before, and Bianca posted on Facebook yesterday, “I’m finally taking James to the park.”  I think it’s fitting–and touching–that, for a guy who worked outdoors and loved what he did, a little bit of him will always be there.

And, as Bianca pointed out, now we already know where we’ll be having our picnic next Easter.