my stepdad passed away very unexpectedly almost two years ago. We held his memorial service at the cider mill where he worked every fall since retiring from his full-time job. He took a job at the cider mill, not because he needed to work, but because of how much he enjoyed being outdoors (especially in the fall) and interacting with all of the schoolchildren who he would take on hayrides throughout the orchard grounds every day. His sweet, easygoing nature endeared him to everyone he met. People who visited the cider mill where he worked would remember him from season to season, and his co-workers there adored him, too. Every evening, before leaving the orchard, he would take his tractor around the grounds one last time, to see if he might catch a glimpse of a deer in the fields or along the shore of the pond on the property. We held his memorial service there on a sunny june afternoon, with family, friends, his co-workers, and the orchard owner all attending. We gathered at the main building on the property. Once everyone arrived, we boarded a string of hay trailers, and a tractor driver pulled us out to the pond for the service, slowly winding us through the most scenic areas of the orchard along the way. As we rode along, we shared hugs, great memories and we shed many tears. In memory of my stepdad and his love of evening deer-watching, the orchard owner suggested that we keep our eyes out for any deer that we might see along the route. Though we thought it would be highly unlikely to see any in the midst of this very warm, sunny summer afternoon, we watched for deer nevertheless. About halfway into our ride, one of my nieces spotted something moving across the field, and she excitedly alerted the rest of us. As we looked in the direction she was pointing, we saw a single, full-grown doe walking across the field, calmly, and somewhat toward us. When the doe saw us, instead of running off right away as deer usually do, she stood perfectly still for moment, watching us as we passed by. She did not dash off until the last of our trailers had passed her by. Every one of us burst into joyful tears at that moment, for we all realized that was no ordinary deer, but the spirit of our beloved father, step-father, husband, grandad and friend. In that moment, we realized that he was with us still.
Thinking about what happened that day still warms our hearts and gives us comfort.
A large framed photo of my stepdad, smiling, wearing his sunglasses and cowboy hat and sitting on his tractor, is still prominently displayed in the main building of this cider mill, for all who may stop by for a visit on a crisp fall afternoon. His co-workers say the place isn't the same without him, but we all know his sprit lives on.
Thanks so much for letting me share.
. Mom loved the birds...
