Cherry season

If there's a fresh fruit I love as much as a peach, it might be a cherry.

Except I like peaches better.

Except that cherries are practically as good.

ANYWAY.  I bought a bag at a fruit stand last week, and the first thing I wanted to do when I got home was to call up Dad and have this annual conversation with him.

ME:  I'm planning on getting a stomach ache tonight.

DAD:  You bought some cherries, right?

ME:  Yup.

DAD:  I'm also planning on a stomach ache.  Bought myself a bunch, too.  I know they'll make me sick but I can't stop eating them.

ME:  Have you washed them yet?

DAD:  I told your mother I did.  Does that count?

ME:  That's good enough for me.

Not long ago, the therapist I check in with now and then told me to keep a little notebook to jot down those moments when I felt my father's presence in one form or another.  And yes.  When I dug into that handful of sweet shining fruit, I could almost feel Dad smile.