pears for tears

The shape of a pear reminds me of how full-bodied we women can be.

I am young and independent. Papa said so.

Why do I have to be a skinny, bony, half starved female. Who am I supposed to please.

Well, I am a full

fulsome, rounded pear-shaped, curvy specimen of a woman, and I am proud of it.

Papa is buried under the pear tree.

It was his wish. He loved pears.

I don't much like the taste of it.

He liked to sit and watch the rain water run off the leaves. The sky is washing my fruits, he would say. Then he would go pick em' and eat em' right then and there.

He often sat under the tree with his head in his hands. He was ruminating he said.

Our farm is large. A lot of land. He would sit at his window and watch his trees bear fruit in the summer months.

I loved my papa. He had been our sunshine in the rain. Always smiling. Sometimes his smile was sad, and I thought it was when he missed mama.

Mama left a long time ago. Didn't like to be tied down. She wanted excitement, papa said. He raised me and my brother by' hisself'. Himself is not right he always said, it's' his self; that matters.

My brother Daniel is older than 'me'. He took over the farm when papa left on his otherworld journey. Daniel was good at running the farm. He did better than papa. He made a lot of good decisions and a lot of money. He knew the right people and had good connections he said. I guess college was not a waste of money for him.

It was for me, I think, I dropped out, which made Daddy mad. I am more like mama, he said. I've got the wandering spirit.

"Aliva, I am going to have the pear tree cut down and father's grave moved to the family burial site. I know you will be sad , but I need the space for expansion."

Daniel had made up his mind. Arguing with him was a waste of time. Anyway, I always wondered why papa wanted to be buried there when everyone else in the family was at the family site.

I had him in my heart anyway. And my wandering spirit was very strong. I needed to get away and go travel and make my own adventures. It did not matter where papa was on the farm. I could always find him.

So I gave my brother my blessings. He was surprised, but happy.

He called the blessings and moved papa to his final, final resting place. I felt sad, like I had betrayed his wishes. But he would be alright.

We picked all the pears and replanted in a better area from the specimens we had in pots. There would be pear trees again one day.

He gave it a week, he said papa might be confused and may go back to his home under the pear tree. So he gave him time to adjust and be comfortable in the new environment. I did not know that Danny was that sentimental. But I was proud of him for doing that.

The tractors came. By then I was packed and ready to go. Danny said I was too young go by myself. I should wait.

No, I was eighteen years old next Wednesday. I would go the following week. I would be of age.

They started digging. The blades went down, dirt came up, they dug for two days.

On the third day, like some omen of the third day, the blades went down and mama came up.

Well, actually bones came up. There was a lot of excitement about who it was. But I had seen mama's ring in many pictures. I saw the ring on her finger.

I did not know her very well, she 'left' when I was two years old.

Oh, papa, what did you do. Is that why you wanted to be under the pear tree. You figured that no one would ever dig there if you were buried there.

The police came, the coroner came. the people came, our shame came knocking and we could hardly bear it.

It was mama, papa had done a bad thing. She had wanted to leave him it would seem. Papa maybe could not entertain the shame of being jilted, the pain and loneliness and heartache of knowing that she was with someone else. Is that harder to bear than knowing that he buried her a few feet away.

We would never know for certain.

After we buried our mother things were never the same.

Daniel and I decided to sell the farm. He had lost a part of himself in the sadness of the lies surrounding our lives.

We separated the family burial site from the rest of the farm. That was still ours.

Due to the prosperity of the farm we had many buyers. Daniel choose not the most generous offer, but the offer of the person with the most generous heart. He loved the place, he wanted someone who loved it as much as he did. Widow Berstein and her three sons had a small farm close by. It was well cared for and they could join the properties and become very successful.

I thought that he had made a good choice.

The night before we left, I dreamed that I saw mama and papa holding hands and smiling happily. Well, at least they had managed to work things out in the afterlife.

My brother was finally going to pursue his dream of .........whatever he wanted to dream of.

We were free and we would live our lives to the fullest measure.

I wonder if we would ever go back there some day.

Maybe with our grandchildren.

Who knows.

From now on, home would be where our hearts took us.