I planted a pear tree yesterday to honor the eleventh year since my dad passed away from COPD. He fought it every step of the way, until, at the end, he realized it was time. We brought him home and in 36 hours he was gone.
Each year marking the days my parent’s passed, I plant something. It’s a bit difficult to plant something in February so I buy more lily bulbs and plant them in Autumn so they will bloom each spring reminding me of my mother.
Yesterday I bought the pear tree and brought it home and planted it on the North side of the drive, up by the privacy fence. And when Spring rolls around and the tree blooms it will remind me that Dad is with me, in the air I breathe, in the water I nourish the tree with, and in the sunlight that floods down me and the tree.
This time of year keeps me thinking of everything I miss about Daddy….watching football with him, seeing his eyes twinkle when he really was amused. Dad wasn’t a big laugher and when he did it was something terrifically funny and even them his laugh was quiet. But you could see amusement in his eyes.
I could dwell on all the bad things that happened while he was fighting a losing battle with lung disease, but I tend to think of the happy things.
Dad taught me how to drive on the ice and snow. He taught me how to throw and how to swing a golf club. He taught me how to be courteous and respectful. He taught me what a true father, husband, man is really made of and this was a tremendous gift.
My father taught me how to body surf and float on the waves in North Myrtle Beach. He loved that place more than any other and luckily, happily, it was our last vacation as a family, the summer before he passed on September 9th.
Little pear tree, you have a lot to live up to….may you bloom and grow to be as strong as the man you represent.