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Tomato



Instead of my usual Thursday drive to the cemetary to leave a flower at my mother and father's grave site, scheduling issues in my family necessitated our switching our routines for Wednesday and Thursday. So, yesterday I went to visit my parent's grave.

As I wrote earlier this week, I had been thinking about my mother a great deal, especially after seeing the local farm offering their first giant tomatoes of the season. My mother loved these tomatoes and every year would cut thick slices to put on toasted, coarse-grained bread with Miracle Whip Salad Dressing and pepper. She so enjoyed these sandwiches, and during this time of year when I could get her these wonderful, locally grown tomatoes, she would sometimes eat them for both lunch and dinner.

I did take one of these beautiful tomatoes out to my mom's grave site yesterday. It was late afternoon when I arrived. I placed my usual rose as well as the tomato on the headstone, and sat down and talked to (with?) both of my parents for the better part of an hour.

In the talk, I tried to tell them about the highlights of the past week with the other members of my family, and I asked them to both help me in whatever way they could as I tried to be a better father, husband, son, and sibling. I also told them that I hope I am showing that I do try to be a good, kind, generous, and gentle person in my life, and that I try to be a hard worker, both at my job but also in my community. I ended my conversation with them stating that I hope my efforts in life are one's they both could be proud of, and that I love them both and miss them terribly. I also asked them (as I always do) to please consider if they could find a way to do so, to speak to me at least in my dreams while I am sleeping.

I then drove back across town towards home.

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