By Yvonne Vávra

There once was a tree in Central Park that bloomed every December — not with flowers or lights, but with memory. People tied photos of pets who’d passed to its branches, along with favorite toys, handwritten notes, and other tokens of love and loss. I visited the Pet Memorial Tree every year, and with the pictures fluttering in the wind, it always looked to me like the pets were waving — all of them captured in their happiest moments, in the photos their owners must have loved best. It felt like they were still having a good time out there in the park.

The tree is gone now. The Central Park Conservancy had to cut it down after it died from a mix of environmental stress, damage to its roots and body, and perhaps the weight of our affection. Maybe the ornaments and ashes s

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