My sister and I started picking strawberries with my grandpa three years ago and we’ve gone together every year since. I really cherish these times because we get to see a side of my grandpa that isn’t “the old guy talking with other old guys.” He and my grandma migrated south for the winter every year like mallard ducks so we rarely ever get to see him. Being able to spend one-on-one time with him is special because as I get older I’m realizing more and more that he won’t be around forever. After my grandma passed away two years ago, I find myself wishing I had been able to spend more time with her. So now I use the U-pick season at Spooner’s fields to spend as much time as I can with him. He’ll tell us stories about our dad when he was younger, providing us with plenty of ammo to mock him when we get home. Not only do I get to spend quality time with my grandpa, my sister and I have also really bonded over the experience. We’d compete to pick the most berries and who got the biggest ones while sneaking a few bites every now and then when no one was looking. Being six hours away from them now and with summer being over, I know I’ll have to wait at least 365 more days until we can do it again. Whenever I see a strawberry in the supermarket, I’m reminded of this memory and can’t wait to do it again.
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