June 19, 2016

My Father's Legacy

It's Father's Day again. This is my 7th year that I won't be celebrating with my father. He passed on in his 80th year on October 31, 2009.

I think of him and miss him every day. Some days it feels like he was just here bugging me yesterday. Other days it feels like he's been gone for longer than he was here.

The other day I was reading my Twitter friend's timeline. He was suggesting some good Father's Day presents. I actually have some of the gifts he suggests for ahem, men. One specific tweet caught my eye and tugged strong on my heart strings. The Father's Legacy - Your Life Story in Your Own Words - A Lasting Heritage for Your Children.

Seven months after my mom passed away unexpectedly at 61 years old, I bought my own father that journal on August 4, 2000. I know the date because I'm annoyingly organized and I wrote it on inside the book. I also addressed the journal, "TO THE BEST DAD EVER". Keep in mind, I was 31 years old at the time so I wasn't just another little snot-nosed runt thinking my dad was the best. Ever. Is so.

After reading that tweet, I brought out the journal and starting reading it again. Of course I was again bowled over with emotion.

You see, my dad was a strong man. Independent. Hard-working. Giving. Hilarious. He was the infinite Patriarch of this, his tribe. He was The Rock, long before THE Rock was a thing. Sorry, Mr. Johnson.

Mostly, dad was a man of few emotionally-fueled words. In certain company, he spoke when needed, made his point and then listened to the drivel of conversation that followed.

The copy of A Father's Legacy that I have is 208 pages. My father put pen to paper on only four of those pages. 53 characters if we're counting. That is typical Bruiser. Doing things on his terms. A physically towering mountain of man with no need for wordiness. If he were reading this right now, he'd be asking me why I haven't made my point yet.

Dad's longest entry in the journal was a recollection of his first few vehicles. What he doesn't say in the legacy is that the 2-door Chevy Coupe ended up on it's roof in a ditch on a sharp curve on a country gravel road back home. I remember that story because it was so funny having my dad vividly explain to me how small the windows were in that car and how difficult it was to climb out. He was thinner then but still a giant of a man. After that crash he upgraded from the coupe to a Harley Davidson motorcycle and more escapades ensued.


 
 My dad's sense of humour really hit me on page 168. What is the strangest thing you have ever seen? Pops wrote, "Some of my kids". As much as I find this hysterical every time I read it, I shed as many tears as I do laughs. When you miss someone you love so much, tears and laughter are synonymous.

My dad always did what he wanted to do. For nine years, I could not pressure him into completing the journal. His terse journal-ling is just one example of how father really does know best. Initially, when I read this journal, I had wished so hard that he had filled out every single line on every single page. With time, I've decided that dad left me with just enough. I believe if he were here right now with me, he'd say, "I didn't need to finish the journal. My legacy is some of my kids."


I love you, dad. You are still the best dad, ever. xo

May 12, 2016

Miniature Trough, Big Love

I bought this miniature "galvanized" trough at my local TSC Store. 
It is actually a gift card holder. 


I chose to showcase my Crackerjack Marigold Seedlings in it.

April 27, 2016

Pretty in Pinks



Tiger Eye Viola




Understanding is Overestimated

Why do I try to understand people? I keep telling myself not to bother. My father told me years ago, "Kid, you're wasting a lot of time trying to understand the motives of people's actions." I just keep trying to understand.

I naively believe that if I can find out what makes a person tick, then I can understand them, the person a lot better. I can be more sympathetic, empathetic to their plights. It just never works. 

If we have psychologists and psychiatrists trying to understand sociopaths, why can't I try to understand the people I know? I guess I can and I do but as pops told me, I'm wasting my time. 

We live in a day and age where everyone is so superficial and so phony. The human race is "on" all the time. It's impossible these days to know when someone is actually being a genuine human being. I find this frustrating to no end. 

True, I smile at the grocery store clerk and some times it's a phony grin but really, she doesn't need to know I had a crappy day and my smile might appear genuine. And smiles can be contagious. For the most part of my life though, I am genuine. I am genuine and people take advantage of that. 

Why does everyone need to have a hidden agenda? Why is everyone out to score something from someone else? Where did integrity and honesty run off to? 

Even if I just try to figure out the motives of actions to the direct people in my life, I'm baffled. Why would friends and relatives lie to me or use me for something? I think I need to grow up and realize that it doesn't matter who it is, people are all the same. Yes, broad stroke with a wide brush. I've had 4 decades of this though and I've seen and learned a little bit. If I believe that all people are capable of acting the same, then I'm one step ahead. I realize the possibility of each person screwing me over and it doesn't matter why or what they do, just that I know this lets me relax a bit more. It doesn't matter why certain people do what they do to other people. It only matters that we realize that all people are capable of it. Knowing is half the battle. I won't have to wonder about motives or recount my own steps to see where I might have gone wrong. I just know.

My dad was a decent, genuine guy. And cool too. Even when I didn't know he was teaching me something, he was teaching me something. Understanding is overestimated. Knowing is the key.

April 7, 2016

Morning Glory Love

It is such a simple thing to wake up each morning and be thrilled to be greeted with another bloom or two. The vibrant colours are so pleasing and the delicate yet vigorous Morning Glory never ceases to amaze.

 



About Bloomin' Time!

By now, everyone I know, everywhere has seen photos my first three Morning Glory seeds as they grew.

It took a few mornings but I finally got to watch one glorious bud open into into full bloom. The entire process took about 90 minutes and I was in awe. The only thing better would have been if I could watch it in time lapse.








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