A Pineapple A Day

My husband was a federal agent with NCIS. He was a firearms safety officer, a hostage negotiator, a graduate of homicide investigation school, a field training officer, and a lifelong Lutheran (with side trips into the Episcopal denomination when necessary). But he also loved tropical plants. He loved growing avocado trees from pits and about six or seven years ago he started a pineapple plant from the top of a delicious salad ingredient. Since his death four years ago, my daughter and I have lugged the now huge pineapple plant into and out of the house according to the weather. I try to remember to water it at the proper intervals, not so much because I have any great love for the prickly, pointy bromeliad and the space it takes up, but because he was so proud of getting it to grow that I couldn’t just let it die. Although I’ve been tempted. This week I was shocked and amazed to see a baby pineapple nestled among the serrated leaves. Its appearance reminded me of the quote attributed to Martin Luther when asked what he would do if the world were slated to end tomorrow. “I would still plant my apple tree.”

The baby pineapple that showed up in my den years after my husband’s death reminds me of the long-term impact of things we invest time and effort in. We might not live to see the fruit of those actions, but the unintended consequences affect our lives, nevertheless. I’m pretty sure my husband didn’t plant this pineapple to illustrate some century old parable about hope and perseverance, he just liked seeing what he could grow. Nevertheless, I know he’d be thrilled to see this plucky little pineapple poking its head out so many years later and I’m glad I didn’t give up on it. I see it as another reminder not to neglect the good things others have started, but to sustain them until you eventually enjoy the benefits of their vision. It's pretty cool that a salad several years ago lives on in my living room, the fruit of one of my determined husband's passions.