I picked figs tonight. Your birthday was always timed with their ripening. So fitting. You loved them so. Wish I could take this bucket into your room and see you enjoy them. Remember how you liked to freeze them whole and eat them straight from the freezer, solid as a brick? Remember that year that Paul pruned the bush and you were convinced it would never bear again but it did, quite bountifully? We gave you a hard time about doubting him and you were such a good sport. Mainly you just wanted to know you would get some figs!
I don’t know if Heaven celebrates Earthly birthdays. Maybe they celebrate spiritual birthdays - that would be more fitting - and just observe these days as “earth days” or something. Whether you commemorate it up there or not, I’ll be remembering. Your birthday. All the times I got to celebrate you. The jokes we had (ok so maybe we shouldn’t have made fun of other people so much….but it sure was fun, wasn’t it?) The times we shared putting up peaches or getting sodapaloozas or cooking for the gang. Lots of our times centered around food, didn’t they? Appropriate for the family who spelled “LOVE” “F-O-O-D” ! I am so thankful for the things we did together. For the way we loved each other. For the confidence that you were always for me. For how you delighted and enjoyed anything that involved me. Like seeing my new clothes or hearing about my Bible studies or checking in on my grands/your greats. Especially that.
Speaking of the gang, my girls and their peeps are coming this weekend. To celebrate Mary and baby Emmett. I figure you already knew she chose that name to honor your Dad…and you. That’s pretty special. Your imprint lingers on them all. Katie’s kids still ask about you, particularly Mary Alice. She tells me she misses you. I assure her that I do , too. Betsy and I share stories about your years here with us. She was so little when y’all moved in that she barely can recall a time you weren’t here. She says she’s the luckiest because not everybody gets to have a grandma for a roommate.
We will miss you this weekend. And Chip. He can’t make it home for your birthday…or his. I loved how y’all were so close - maybe it’s because your birthdays were a day apart.
I can’t believe it’s been nearly a year since I heard your voice and held your hand. I was kinda like the way you saw that fig bush after Paul pruned it - didn’t think I could bloom again. But I did, Mama. I am amazed that I haven’t just withered up without you but I guess that’s just proof that you did your job well. I am doing well in spite of missing you every single day. Sometimes I still cry - maybe you see me and Daddy has to remind you that not everybody laughs all the time like you do! But I am doing all right. I can’t be too sad - I am too grateful for the gift of belonging to you and Daddy. God has surely been generous to me.
Well, I’ll close now. I just wanted to get these thoughts out of my head. I guess it’s one way of “talking” with you. Tell Daddy I love you both. Happy birthday. And I hope with all my heart that Heaven has a divine fig bush for you!