I've been thinking about my mom and dad a lot for the last several days ... I always think about the two of them a lot during the first couple of weeks of June. I think about them in June because each of them passed away in the month of June, 13 years apart from one another. It's impossible for me to think of Mom without remembering the countless times she said, "Lord, help!" about one thing or another, and it's equally as impossible for me to think of Daddy without remembering him in the place he loved best ... his garden.
For those of you who've been reading along with me for a while, it's quite likely that you've read a few stories about my sweet dad. And if you did, then you read about at least some of the lessons he taught me over the years. Someone asked me a few days ago what I thought was the most important lesson Daddy ever taught me, and I didn't even have to think twice before I answered.
"Daddy taught me how to treat people ... he taught me how to have a good heart."
Now I could have expounded upon my answer that day and said that my dad taught me about compassion and sacrifice and loyalty and giving and honesty and trust and being vulnerable and respect and commitment and faith and dignity and patience ... because he did. But when I think about it, all of those things are part of treating people the way I should treat them if my heart is in the right place ... if I have a good heart, I'll treat people from a place of love and understanding.
It took me a great many years to realize that a lot of teaching moments happened in Daddy's garden ... maybe that's a big part of why he loved it so much. Sometimes it seems like only yesterday that he said, "Sam, these here plants are a lot like people. If you don't tend to them like you should, they'll just wither up and die and you'll miss out on all the good." If I had a nickel for every time my dad talked to me about taking care of the plants in the garden, I'd be one rich old gray-haired gal for sure. From the gentle way he planted the seeds to his meticulous watering and weeding to the seemingly insane ways he protected the plants from bugs and bunnies and birds to the glorious time of harvesting the fruits ... or veggies as the case may be ... of his labors, Daddy was teaching me how to treat people. For all those years, my sweet dad was using those plants in his garden to teach me what it means to love and care for other people ... he was teaching me how to have a good heart.
I'm sure I'm not alone in saying that the events of the last few days have made me think a lot more deeply about the people I love and care about ... I simply cannot fathom the pain of losing a single one of them. I've been thinking a ton about how the care I give to the people who reside in the garden of my heart ... am I gentle with the words I plant in their minds? Do I give them cool water when their souls are thirsty? Do I help them get rid of the things in their life that are threatening to hinder their growth? Am I protecting them from the people or things that are trying to suck the life out of them? Am I celebrating their growth and their victories with them? Did I learn the lesson my dad was trying to teach me? I sure hope so, friends ... I sure hope so. I hope I treat others the way I should ... I hope I have the kind of heart my dad did.
I hope I always make time for people. I hope I never ever take my family and friends for granted. I hope I go out of my way to hug someone every day. I hope that I do more than acknowledge someone's pain ... I hope I find a way to soothe it. I hope I reach out to the lonely ... encourage the downtrodden ... cheer for the victorious ... fight for the weak ... stand hand-in-hand with the strong ... affirm the doubting. I hope I am forever aware that I am not guaranteed another month, another week, another day, another moment. I hope that when I breathe my final breath, the harvest of my garden is love.
"Sam, these here plants are a lot like people. If you don't tend to them like you should, they'll just wither up and die and you'll miss out on all the good."
How does your garden grow?
No comments:
Post a Comment