I'm mourning the impending death of four beautiful Ficus Natidia trees.

They were the first thing I noticed when I walked through the front door of a home that would become our own last March.

As I sit here quietly writing under their majestic, unknowing grace, I feel a little Judas-esque.

Power tools will soon cut into their lifeline, birds will fly their nests, and our home will lose four lush, beautiful, honor guards.

Unfortunately, the original owners placed the trees too close to the home decades past, then worsened matters by choking off the trunks with thick, double plastic and an insufficient watering system.

Thirsty roots survived over the years by searching for water sources, and now threaten the stemwall of the home.

We've consulted, researched and hoped for other options, but the aggressive nature of the root system leaves us no alternative.

When a tree professional told me, "Look, I'm all about saving trees, but I've seen the damage these can cause, and removing them is the only option you have." I knew it had to be done.

I must sound like a fruit loop to some of you, but I have truly struggled with this decision.

The power tools will be here soon to begin the execution process.

My three-year-old grandson will be coming by to watch the process, so I will try to suck it up, and watch through a child's eyes and perspective.

The noise--the big machines--the trucks and trailers, power tools.

And as my beauties are felled, a tear or two might sneak out amid all the little boy excitement.