Reminiscing over playful memories

“Happiness is not something ready-made. It comes from your own actions.” - Dalai Lama

I returned home yesterday to find my fig tree laden with fruit.  This isn’t often the case - the blackbirds tend to get there before me and, although a little disappointed, I’m happy to watch their excitement and enjoyment of consuming these treasures.  As I picked them gently from the tree and brought them into the kitchen, I wondered when and how I would eat them and I also began to reminisce.

Over the past 15 years, the tree has grown from a cutting into a sizeable tree of which I am so proud and thrilled.  The cutting came from my father’s tree, when he died 15 years ago, and I hoped and longed for it to bear fruit as a reminder of a playful ritual that we had for the last couple of years of his life.  He would pick the figs and leave them for me in different locations in the kitchen or around the outside of my home.  It always brought a smile to his face and to mine now as I remember him waiting to see if I had found the hidden treasure.

“It always brought a smile to his face and to mine now as I remember him waiting to see if I had found the hidden treasure.”

Rachel Podger

The last two years of his life were bittersweet for me as, for many reasons, I had a sense that he wouldn’t live to an old age.  The playful memories, I am truly blessed to have many from those couple of years, balance out the torturous ones of an ending that was so sudden and painful for my brother and I, and yet thankfully peaceful for him. 

Last night when I baked the figs with rosemary and cinnamon I reflected on these memories and wish now that he was alive to share them with me.  He may have put a lot of sugar and honey on them but no-one is perfect and he certainly had a sweet tooth that I’ve had to learn to curtail, especially in the menopause!