It Lives On So He Does Too

My Dad was a fantastic

vegetable gardener. 

He was even written up in the local

newspaper, as he proudly

stood in his 7 foot high corn.

He hand tilled all of it.

Every day.

It paid off.

If it grew, he planted it.

We'd feast on it all summer long.

My Dad has been gone over 20

years already.

Seems impossible.

Back when I first got married,

I did my best to try to emulate my Dad's

garden.

I can clearly remember him digging up a start

of rhubarb for me to plant in my first garden.

It flourished.

After my Dad died,

I gave a start to one of my brothers and my sister.

When I moved to Texas, I dug up my rhubarb and took it with me.

When I returned to Minnesota,

it came back home with me.

Here it is today.

I found a special surprise today.

Whenever I cut my rhubarb, I chop off the leaves

and let them compost at the edge of my yard.

Today I found what my Dad

always called "a volunteer."

It sure made me smile

and warmed my heart.

I have a peony that was my Mom's.

No picture though as it's not even close to blooming today.

These are precious gifts to me.

Especially today

as it's my birthday.

It's almost like having my Mom and Dad here with me.

Almost.

Lilacs make me think

of a wonderful childhood where

my love of lilacs developed.

And love them, I do.

Their scent is intoxicating to me.

They aren't ready either

and I won't have many of them

but here is one that is trying.

Always something to look forward to.

Always something to be thankful for.

I count you as both.

Thanks for being my friend.