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..."

 


 

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

Copyright 2011 mrfraley, Flickr. Unchanged from original. Used under Creative Commons license.