The cherry trees have bloomed and now bringing forth fruit––tart red cherries. Like the ones I remember laying in the crotch of the tree on the first farm we owned in Highland County, Ohio, with my little brother, picking, eating, puckering and spitting seeds. Until we could eat no more.
My only brother was two years younger than me, and we were probably about nine and seven during that memory. He grew up loving cherry pies––me not so much. Lol! It only occurred to me a few years ago, after he passed, that this may have been why.
Today, George, a friend of the family came by with a bag of tart cherries he had picked from the tree at his farm. “If you don’t have enough to do anything with, don’t worry about it.” I smiled, “I think I have enough to make jelly.”
So after a nice afternoon visit, I got to it. Cherries, sugar several drops of red coloring to make it pretty and Sure-Jell. Truly it took less than and hour. the more I do it, the faster it becomes. I took from the cabinet all the little odd jars I collect and save so I have little friendship jars of my jellies to give away. Last year, when I gave George two small jars of blackberry jelly at Christmas time, he was more than pleased. I thought, wow, no one I usually give store bought gifts to act half as excited. Note to self. The gift of time––priceless.
And I am so proud to have several jelly jars with summers bounty: Cherry Jelly by Sherry! I wish I had labels. How could I get them?
During the processing, I thought of brother a lot and I think of him every time I see something “cherry.” The cherries resonated a memory of the cherry eating times we had as children, long, long ago.
So here’s the thing: One day all you will have are memories. Keep making memories and for goodness sakes, don’t be afraid to resurrect them! This winter, or tomorrow when I have a piece of toast with butter and cherry jelly, I’ll be remembering, Robby.