An ancient apple tree stands on the northeast corner of the Humphrey Road property, kitty-corner from the garage. It’s weathered countless summers, feeding deer, birds, and humans — some of whom I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. But now, it shows unmistakable signs of age. Lichen blankets its gnarled trunk and branches, and the bark…

In the late ’90s, when I was too young to care about girls but old enough to want to prove my manliness, my Papa Larry asked a simple favor. Help me dig a hole. My grandparents lived on a little plot of land on Humphrey Road that danced in my daydreams as my own Garden…