My family tree includes an actual tree. I call it Abe. Abe is an apricot tree. For 30 years he’s been strong and protective and always there when I need him, so I think of him as my third grandfather. We’re very close; he lives outside my bedroom window. I’m looking at him right now. I’m still in bed, feeling miserable, because last night my husband and I had a heated discussion, the same one we’ve had for the last month.