Saturday, May 25th 2019. 2:44 PM.
Sonya and Memorial Day and Me mere’s Garden on Sweet Avenue
May 25th 2019
Dear Sonya, It’s May 25, 2019 and Memorial Day is approaching. So, I was remembering you, my correspondent during the early 1980s. My letter-writing friend. My valedictorian friend from Bellingham, Massachusetts who had gone on to become a college student majoring in my favorite subject, English. It might have been in your first letter from college that you wrote of feeling like you were in a big whale over there, at your college. Got me thinking of Jonah the prophet in the Bible.
Noticed some pictures of a flower garden on your Facebook page. Reminded me of my grandmother’s garden on Sweet Avenue where we all lived on her property. Her garden was a vegetable garden. The most prominent plant in her garden was tomatoes. Me mere also grew potatoes and peppers and cucumbers and radishes and yellow summer squash and rhubarb. She was so kind to me. She asked me once what I would like to grow in her garden. I said watermelon. So, she grew a few watermelon. Sometimes she had me help her planting things in the Springtime. And I would go into the garden sometimes to check on my watermelon to see how they were doing. It was exciting to see the little watermelon hiding under its leaves and getting bigger and bigger as the days went by. It went from being just this little guy to becoming a bigger and bigger guy, like a little child growing up.
Me mere also had many trees on her property: two pear trees of different varieties; a cherry tree that the black birds loved to perch in; an apricot tree; an apple tree that was on the property very near where the sitting area was. When I saw an old movie on TV called, “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree with Anyone Else But Me” I remembered our apple tree. And while sitting near that apple tree I often remembered that song and movie. We also had two grape vines in the yard. One produced purple grapes and the other grew “white” grapes. They were actually green to be honest about it. And during the summer the big leaves of those grape vines had many japanese beetles on them. And my dad built a yellow bird house and put it in the pear tree that was very near the house in the backyard. So, while sitting in the sunshine in the yard with my family I would see those little sparrows land on a little perch right before the opening and go into their house. Me mere told me that the sparrows with a dark bib on their chest were the males. And later, my uncle Milton, mom’s older brother, put up another bird house in the big maple tree in the garden near the sidewalk of Sweet Avenue.
Still your letter-writing friend, Mark
Sonya? Do you still write?
Do you have memories?
Sonya? Would your write to me again?