Waiting
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One response to “Waiting”
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That picture of the tree with its roots in a bundle reminded me of a dogwood tree one of my sisters sent my mother by ordering it from a nursery to be delivered there. I was there when it came, and we all went out to get the nursery man’s instructions on how to plant it and take care of it. When he was about to leave in his rather large-for-the job truck, my father, who was losing his memory but not his sense of humor, said, “Just a minute.” The man turned around. “See those houses over there?” My dad said. “They weren’t there when we moved here. Would you mind taking them with you?”
Terron
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