During our first spring here, my mom and dad bought me this female jojoba and the male jojoba that grows beside it. The female jojoba is around five feet tall and four feet around. The male is half that size. At least now, the male plant is thriving and striving to catch up to the female. For several years, I was worried the male wouldn’t survive.

My dad passed a year or two after they gave us these plants. I also associated the plants with my parents–the female with my mom, and the male with my dad. So, after my dad’s passing, when the male jojoba struggled to grow, it was a reminder of my grief.

Now that it’s growing and thriving again, it’s a reminder of my love for my dad and how he’s still with us, always a part of our family and a part of each of us.

My mom, who’s remarried to an old junior high school beau, who was good friends with my dad’s younger brother, is getting older. Her mind is changing with age. Her eyes still sparkles, and, when talking with any of her three kids, her favorite subject is our dad.



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