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.