Apple Dates: Part II

Apple Dates (part two)

Dad can’t go outside anymore. He stays at the hospital a lot. The doctors want to see him all the time now. But I make sure to go on an Apple Date each day.

I don’t go to the bench in the park. It’s made for two people. I wasn’t going to go back till he comes with me. But I thought I’d just walk by it today.

Dad says that memories are the most important thing we have because they’re our seeds. They take root in us. Who and what we become is because of them – like apple trees. That bench is a good memory, and my one day there changed me. I dreamed of my first apple field there.

I start walking down the path that goes to the bench. From a distance, it looks different. The bench isn’t new anymore. The wood is worn from the rain, sun and cold winters. That isn’t what I notice first though. What I see first are the two trees growing beside the bench.

Inside I start to smile, and it quickly starts to spread from my face to my toes. I run to the bench and the trees. There is a plaque underneath each tree.

The first one says “Everything starts with a seed.”

“What will you be?” reads the second plaque. Beneath that line, reads “For my Lizzy Girl.”

Today was a hard day. This doesn’t make it easier, but it makes it better. Dad didn’t forget. I won’t forget.

I curl up on the bench with my apple. Red today. I choose red a lot. Green is for special days. Green is for Apple Dates with Dad. I pull out my journal, too. I keep it in my backpack for times like this - times when my words are more important out than in.

Life can be a lot like apples. Once you get past the shiny peel, you find out what the apple is really made of. And it’s there that the fruit can be transformed. I have my seeds, and now I’m finding out how to grow.

Who will I be? My mind drifts. As usual, I start doodling apple fields. I guess Mom is still right. I let my imagination run away with me.

My pictures are always the same. Rolling hills littered with rows of apple trees and two people in the middle – two people that aren’t unlike Dad and me.

Mom gave me a cell phone for my birthday last year for emergencies and so that I can have my Apple Dates with Dad. My phone rings now. It’s Dad.

“How’s my Lizzy Girl today?” I never get used to his voice. It’s different than it used to sound.

“Fine, Dad.” It’s been a hard day, but I know my days are never as hard as his. “How is your day?”

“It’s a good day. Today was a green apple day.”

“But why?” I ask with worry and excitement.

“I’m coming home today, Lizzy.”

A Perspective by Observation

Nothing strikes me quite so much as the young Maple tree. Alone in a meadow where no other trees dare grow.

At the very tip top is a branch that reaches with all its might. It soaks in all of my warmth with one leaf high above the others beginning its bloom.

Day after day it uncurls just a bit. Green gleams through. In a very short time, it is broad and welcoming. A conduit of health for the maturing tree.

As breezes come and go, it waves at me. I smile back. Warming the air in which it sways. Alone. At the top. Doing all that’s expected of it. Joined by many other leaves, it looks down at them and up at me.

The thickened breeze carries with it inevitably long days, which I come to treasure. The Earth displays her proverbial feathers to show me all of the good she grows with me. Like the diva she is, bathing in my spotlight.

But as the endless cycle goes so must she. The days shorten. Spring’s glory melts in the heat of summer, which now slows on the brink of fall. But then there’s the young Maple. The one in the meadow where no other trees dare grow.

Atop the tree’s tallest branch is the leaf that long ago became a familiar friend. Still it sways on the chilled currents of autumn. For in its youth, it reveled in crowds of friends – never really being part. And as they went their ways, it stayed.

For what, you ask.

Cold nights. Gray days. Harsh survival. I watched as it curled. I winced as it browned.

But come tomorrow.

It will still be there because it knows no other place to be.

Photo by me, 2010. Please request permission before using.

And Now an Important Message From our Sponsor

For those of you who have been following Jule's story for awhile, you rock. And I also owe you an explanation for her AWOL-ness. I've been working on a couple of other writing projects that have taken me away from that story, and I think it's time to share one of them with you.

Apple Dates

This is a project that's very close to my heart. I wrote it for a friend who's dealing with cancer. His story inspired me, and I wrote Apple Dates with parents in mind. What does that conversation look like - telling your child that you have a very serious illness? Honestly. I don't have a clue. But this story came to me while I was at work one day too strong to ignore.

So here it is.

It's written in three parts. Please keep in mind that this is very much so a work-in-progress, and I am completely open to any feedback you have. So please feel free to share it.


Here's Part I.

I eat apples with my daddy. He said if you put an apple in the ground, it grows into a tree that makes more apples.

So we eat apples. Then we bury them.

After school, every day, we go some place new and plant our apples. He calls it our Apple Date. Sometimes we have red apples. Today they are green.

Green ones are my favorite. They make me laugh because they remind me of the tennis balls that Checkers, our dog, chases. I like to imagine him digging up our green apples after we bury them. His white face all dirty and an apple in his mouth.

But we don’t bring Checkers with us ever – or even Mommy. This is mine and Daddy’s time.

Daddy and I go to the park today. He takes me to a bench that sits in a field surrounded by trees. It is new because we used to ride bicycles here so I know.

Two shovels, two apples and two bottles of water. Daddy always brings those things on our Apple Dates. He hands me an apple. I can’t wait so I bite it right away – crunch – just how I like it.

“How do apples turn into trees, Daddy?”

He thinks about it and says, “Well, apples have seeds in them. They are in the middle part that you don’t like. See them in the core?” He takes a big bite of his apple and shows me the seeds. “If you plant them and everything is just right, roots start to grow. Then the tree will start growing. First, it’s real small, but with lots of water and sunshine, it can become a big tree that makes more apples.”

“I want a whole field of apple trees! Red ones and green ones so that everyone can eat apples with their daddies.”

Mommy says my imagination runs away with me sometimes. I guess it does.

I imagine a big meadow on a hill with lots of trees and red and green spots on them. There are so many apples it smells sweet everywhere.

The sky is big and blue. Sometimes puffy white clouds of all shapes go in front of the sun and make shadows in the meadow. But mostly it’s sunny. There are little girls and daddies on benches and picnic blankets in my meadow. Just eating apples and talking about silly things.

Daddy pokes my arm. “You still with me, kiddo?”

“Yeah. Just thinking about my apple field.”

“You have good ideas, Lizzy Girl.” He likes to call me that sometimes. I know I am in trouble when he says my full name.

“Don’t stop having good ideas. It’s how you make your dreams come true, you know? If you don’t have ideas, you can’t have dreams.”

“Like what dreams, Daddy? Do you have dreams?”

“I did. I guess I still do. For you. I dream that you’ll always be my apple blossom, and that maybe one day you can have apple dates with your kids.”

“Will we always have apple dates, Daddy?”

“If you want to.”

“Good. I want to.”

“They might not always be like this though, Lizzy Girl. They might be different.”

“That’s ok, Daddy.”

“I’m glad that’s ok. We might have to have our apple dates inside sometimes – like when it rains – even if it’s not raining.”

Daddy stops. I put down my apple. He looks sad.

“Sometimes I might not be able to have our apple date. Promise me you’ll still go though? You can take Checkers. Then you’ll tell me all about it. Ok?”

“But why, Daddy?”

He looks really sad now, and I start to feel sad.

“Do you remember when Emily Collins was out of school for a long time?”

“Yeah, she was really sick, but she is back at school now.”

‘Well, I’m kind of like Emily was. I’m sick, Lizzy Girl. I might get sicker, and I might not be able to go outside if I do.”

Daddy never gets sick.

“It’s not like when you have a cold. But I might get really tired and won’t be able to do a whole lot.”

“Will I get sick, too? Can I catch it?”

He chuckles, “No, you won’t get sick – especially if you keep eating your apples!”

“Ok, Daddy. I will always go on an apple date, and I promise to tell you all about it if you have to stay inside. But you have to promise you’ll eat an apple too if I’m not with you. That way we both have apple dates.”

“I promise.”