Timothy loved his life.

He loved his family, his mother, his father, and his grandmother

He loved the morning, looking at the paper with his father. 

Eating all the meals his mother cooked.

His grandmother telling him stories on her rocking chair.

He had a good life.

One day, Timothy woke up, like he usually did. But his father was not sitting at the table with the newspaper like he usually did.

His mother was not cooking breakfast like she usually did.

His grandmother was not sitting in the corner, rocking on her chair like she usually did.

Timothy looked to the door. His family was standing on the driveway, his father in a fancy green uniform.

He ran to join them. His mother's and grandmother's eyes were filled with tears.

Timothy hugged his father and turned to leave.

"Wait, son. Take this and plant it. Think of me whenever you look at it."