In Loving Memory: Ron Knope: January 29, 1970–September 4, 2004

He Sent Me Cherries
It was my first birthday after Ron passed. I was spending the week with my brother and his girlfriend in San Francisco. My sister Debbie was there too. And even though they're great, it was still a hard day for me.
We were sightseeing that day, and among the places we went was the San Francisco Palace of Fine Arts.
We were about to leave, but I walked back toward the pond to take ONE more picture. After I took the picture I headed back to the car, and as I was doing so, something on the ground--small, round, and red--caught my eye. I thought it might be a superball (remember those?). I don't know why, but I bent down and picked it up.
It was a cherry.
Big deal, you say? Well...cherry was Ron's favorite flavor. And here, on one of the days I was missing him the most, he had sent me a tangible reminder: "I'm with you. I see you."
I smiled. I threw it in the air and caught it. I marveled.
Thinking, "I don't need to hang onto this," I dropped it back on the ground and went to the car. I didn't say anything...yet. I had to savor this privately for a while first.
We hadn't gotten too far when I wished I'd hung onto it--just to have that tangible "reminder" in my hands.
Well...the story doesn't end there.
The next place we went was Pier 39 in the Embarcadero. Pier 39 is an open-air shopping complex. Not very far into it was a fruit stand. On the very first table sat three HUGE baskets filled and overflowing with (you guessed it) cherries.
"In case you didn't get the message the first time..."
