I wish I was around to learn somethings from my GF. he pasted before i was born, but I grew up on my mothers stories. She kept saying she named me correctly because I always reminder her of her father, same interests. I think she just tried to remember him threw me, and now I am thinking that i am using my new fig as a symbol of my past generation/s. Its funny that a gift that happens to be a plant can bring emotions and memories to the mind, and its not even an heirloom. The more I read about figs the more I enjoy the stories behind them.
Side note: the Gift Giver was an old Italian man that spoke broken English, if i can recall correctly I think he said it was a "black fig" but was not positive. he also explained what he did to propagate his trees. I do not know the true botanist names/terms so bare with me. the sprouts that came out of the main trunk near dirt level, he would just pile dirt at there base and wait till they rooted then, remove,pot, then set in shade. he also cut off green wood and just stuck it in the dirt about a foot away from original tree then pot it when it went dormant.
Albert Einstein " never stop questioning"