~and because some day I know~

In the kitchen sink right now some muskmelon seeds rest in the strainer, still covered by the stringy orange colored membrane that held them together in the first place.  They are soon to be rinsed off, laid on a paper towel to dry overnight, and then placed inside a glass jar until the planting season returns next spring.  

They are special seeds.
They were once lain in the ground by my sister Sherry.

Back in the springtime during one of Sherry's better spells of health, I was over at her house in Altus one Saturday afternoon.  We were on our own that day and one of the things that we both wanted to do was to get her garden started in the north east corner of the backyard.  She had the seeds in her hand and I watched her carefully place them in the little hole that we had made to start them in.  It took quite a bit of effort and I could tell that her oxygen level was more than likely dropping, yet that did not deter her.

Sherry planted them anyways.

The weather was fairly warm, and the sky was a pretty shade of robin's egg blue with just a smattering of puffy clouds in the sky.  She rested back in her wheelchair and we talked a bit about how wonderful food from the garden tastes, promising that we'd enjoy that muskmelon together later on in the summer.

That didn't happen

On the way back into the house, we realized that her wheelchair wouldn't make it over the lip of the sliding glass door.  She said not to worry, that she'd just get up and walk in, holding onto to her walker once inside.  Sherry had the best of intentions but unfortunately that wasn't exactly how it went over.  Two steps into the house, down she went onto the floor.  It took a while to get her back up again, but I managed to after much trial and error.  

I'm sure she could sense how worried I was, but I will remember always the smile on her face. She said not to be concerned, just give her a minute and she could pull herself up by holding onto the coffee table.  It took more than a minute, as a matter of fact five minutes into it I remember grabbing a pillow for her head to rest on and take a break before trying again.  10 minutes that really seemed like an hour later, she was back on her feet once again.

That was April and by mid June she was gone.  I had forgotten all about planting the seeds until my brother in law asked where those melons growing in the backyard could have come from.  

I knew.
They had come from Sherry.

Today Mike and I got to sample the very last one to be picked from the vine and did it ever taste good!  I diced it into cubes and sprinkled the top with cracked pepper, just like Sherry always liked hers too.  I enjoyed every taste of it before I placed the empty bowl into the dishwasher.  I thought for a moment how wonderful it would have been if only she had been able to stay long enough to try a bite of it herself before the time came for her to go back home.  

That was not to be.

So today I savored the fruits of our early springtime labor for the both of us.  I sprinkled an extra dash of pepper on for Sherry and gave thanks to her for planting it when I was done.  I needn't really have been concerned that she wasn't here to sample it.  In her Heavenly home, she experiences things far more glorious than fresh garden produce.

And the most awesome thing is this.
Someday I know that I will see her smiling face once again.