While I was in Trader Joe’s two weeks ago, I noticed they had cartons of figs. I checked them out, and they looked pretty good, so I decided to buy a carton. After dinner, I took the figs out of the fridge, washed a few, and took my first bite. With that first bite, images flooded my consciousness with love. Images of my dad and all of the stories of his lifelong love of figs. Oh, the joy he experienced just talking about those figs of his younger years. He had a lifelong love affair with figs that started in his early childhood days in Monterosso, Italy. I believe figs are what he loved best (food-wise anyway). While he always said “food is food,” I am sure he didn’t feel like “figs were figs.” I wish I would have said to him, “you wouldn’t say figs are figs. I could hear him thank laugh and say, “figs are different, oh how I love figs.” Growing up, we had a few fig trees in our yard. There is nothing in this world like a freshly picked ripe fig! Even our dog loved them and would jump up and grab the ones on the lower branches. I always wanted my own fig tree but could not have one where I am. When we buy a house, I will certainly make sure to have multiple fig trees. I only wished my dad had passed in August rather than May so that I could have gotten him figs to have for the last time.
That one bite of that recently eaten fig was delicious, and I could relate to the joy that filled my dad’s heart with every bite he took. Figs will always only remind me of my father. And they will always make me smile. Figs are certainly not just figs. Figs are heavenly. They were even around in the days of Adam and Eve. I wonder if they have figs in heaven. I sure hope so!