I walked up to
the sink the other day to wash dishes and instead was washed with childhood
memories. It was the tomatoes on the windowsill. Dad always put tomatoes on the
sill above the sink to finish ripening. I had unconsciously done the same
thing, not thinking of my Dad when I put them there, but surrounded by him at
that moment of realization.
The best part of
that moment was, instead of crying because I miss him so much, I smiled because
he gave me so much. Fresh tomatoes ripening on a windowsill. Who could ask for
a better memory on a July afternoon? A memory I can truly still savor.
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