Trees have long memories, and they speak to us. So when I was home at the end of May to bury my Dad’s ashes, we all planted a tree in the front yard for him. Nadia (she’s on the left above) dug the hole, and my Mom (on the right) made sure it was straight and watered.

Only a few feet away was, until only a few months ago, a Japanese cherry that we’d planted way back in the early Sixties after we moved into the house. That tree grew up as I did, and became nearly as tall as my bedroom window. I think of it often, and with those thoughts flood back memories of my childhood.

I hope the same thing happens with this flowering pear and memories of my Dad.

Obituary, remembrances, eulogy