harvest

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

saturday night

Last night was a family wedding.  As usual, you were missed... especially since it was a wedding for young people your age.

You would have enjoyed the night...music (although not much country), beer and a bunch of rednecks plus family and friends.

Love you more,
Mom

a month of sundays

It's been over a month of Sundays yet I still find Sunday to be the most difficult day of the week.

Missing you on this Father's Day weekend.

Love you more,
Mome

night shift

This past Friday night the tractors/sprayers were heading by the house at about 10:30 or so to the fields off Stein Road.  Of course it reminded me of you and all of your stories during these weeks and months leading up to harvest with lots of hours of spraying the berry fields through the night.

Missing you.

Love you more,
Mom

bittersweet

Last Tuesday was a bittersweet day.  You had been gone for 9 months... and you would have become an uncle.  It's hard to realize you're missing out on so much.

Love you more,
Mom