No, I don't mean the tomato tastes bittersweet, but rather it's the first tomato of the summer, from my father's garden.
Dad planted about half his garden before he died May 16. Mom and my boys have been trying to keep his garden watered and weeded.
This particular tomato comes from a special plant. It's a tomato plant my dad had growing in a pot. Those of you who attended my father's funeral might remember a large tomato plant among the flowers. This tomato is from that plant. Three were ripe enough to pick today, my mother brought this one over.
See what I mean about everything reminding me of Dad these days?