Time Changes the Hands of Time
I went to my father's house to get some information this morning. It's a sunny, lightly brisk Friday morning at about 10:15 a.m. My father is 85. He's a widower.
The house was built in 1971, where I spent most of my teenage years. My sisters have lived there, our children have lived there, our grandchildren have lived there. Various events and memories live in that house.
As I was leaving to go back to work, I observed how much things have been neglected outside. I've spent a many of days doing my chores there, which included much of the yard, front and back, it included the garden, and the list goes on.
But today, there was no sign of love outdoors. My father has been "verbally" doing things in the yard since the death of my step-mother. She was a very hands-on wife. She loved working in the yard. She loved her garden. She took care of her things.
As I was walking towards my car, daddy began to "verbally" talk about the things he was going to do in the yard. How many times have I heard it! I couldn't walk away and leave the many, many branches in the front yard! What a mess!
I began to gather the dead branches from the ground. At that instant, the many years of verbal "I'm going to" from daddy kicked in. He immediately went and got the trash barrel. We picked up dead branches in the front yard until the barrel was full!
I saw some life return to daddy and the yard! I saw maybe a little extra pep in one of his steps!
I said, "Daddy, why don't you spend another 1/2 hour or so out here. I have to go back to the office. Get this area cleaned out and I'll come back and put some bricks right here." He said okay.
As I got in my car, my mind raced backwards. Forty-Two years ago, daddy was telling me what to do to the yard!
Time does change some things!
And if you look close enough, you can see life still exists in the yard!