It's hard to believe that exactly one year ago today, on the Sunday before harvest started, you came over for Sunday dinner. You brought three bowls of raspberries, the first picks of the season you said.
You sat in the kitchen as I made dinner and told me how you were looking forward to harvest starting the following day. You and your boss were talking and you said that the night before harvest was like what Christmas Eve feels like as a little kid, you were that excited.
I have to believe that at least you had found a place and a job that you truly loved. Many of us never find that.
The fields around us are starting to be harvested. I'm sure your old co-workers are missing you just like us. The weeks of harvest will be long this year as I think of you each time I drive by field after field of raspberries.
Love you more,
Mom
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