We went apple picking with the boys last weekend at Honeypot Hill in Stowe, MA - one of my favorite places - not overly commercial, lots of open space and apple trees, animals, hayrides, cider donuts. We have been going for the past couple of years and really love it there.
This year, apple picking made me think of my dad. I think it is because I remember a time, years before Ramon and I had children, when he came for a weekend visit from California. It was fall -crisp, cool beautiful weather - so we decided to go apple picking together. My dad moved out to Los Angeles from Connecticut for a position at Kaiser Permanente in 1998 - when I was in law school in Boston, but he made it a point and a promise to return east to visit me and my brother every 2 months. This was one of his many visits to Boston - before he became too sick to travel.
This happens all the time. I am doing something with the kids, and I think of my dad, and wish he could share it with us, knowing full well how much he would enjoy and appreciate it. He is still with us, but we have lost so much of him and it is those parts that I miss almost every day.
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