Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Planting the garden or growing the flower

I remember the day my mom and dad got married all those years ago. What is that you say? How is that possible? You should not have been there. Well, I was and I was 6 years old. My mom met my dad when I was about 4 and we lived in Columbus Georgia. She was his bookkeeper and he used to laugh and say that he took one look at her legs and knew he had to hire her! My parents got married and I got a dad, and three brothers at the same time. We were never ones who believed in the word step in our home. We were a family, kind of like the brady bunch. They married on a beautiful July day in front of a swimming pool with lots of friends and family. I remember this because I hated my hair (all curls and hairspray) and I had to wear a dress!!!! To the ultimate tom-boy that is agony. My mom looked like a flower child and my dad a polka player. They were so beautiful and in love! I give you all this information to talk about what it means to grow the flower. My dad was not my biological father. My biological father was killed in Vietnam 2 and a half weeks before I was born. I never got the chance to meet him and he was so young. Only 21 years old and killed in the line of duty. What a shame that such a young life was cut so tragically short. My dad adopted both my sister and I with the blessing of my Grandma Jean (my biological fathers mom). She adored my dad and approved of him for my sister and I. So, I have often said that it does not take a real man or woman to plant the seed but it does take one to grow the flower. I say that because making a child is the easy part; raising one is the hard part. My dad raised my sister and I in such a loving environment that I feel blessed to have had such a person in my life. In the society where blended families are the norm now days, it is important to take the time to tend those flowers. I recently listened to my husband talk about his step-dad who passed away this week and the things that he taught him in life. He speaks with great love and affection about one of the men in his life who tended that flower/garden. That is what it life is all about. So, remember to thank those in your life who not only planted the seed, but most importantly tended that flower!

7 comments:

  1. Here from AL Bloggers. What a beautiful post! I have a real dad and a step dad and I love them both very much.

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  2. glad you are writing...you have a way with words!

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  3. I commented on this post? Is it in the moderator for approval? Or lost?

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  4. No....it vanished. Hmm?
    I just wanted to say that this was a beautiful post! It takes a special person. I think I said something about steps...steps are in houses, not families. And it is something that we have never used in our family, other than the literal steps. I understand how amazing your dad was in this. Tom is the same in this aspect. And everyday I thank God for him. And his relationship with his children, in particular his SOn Brock. We are all blessed bc of it. Just recently Brock was away at the beach w his friends for a week. I went down on the Friday before they were to return (on Saturday). I asked Brock if he wanted to come over and stay with us for the weekend, his reply, "Mom I dont want to hurt your feelings, but I was really looking forward to a weekend where it was just me and Tom. A guys weekend". Not only did I understand, I was touched at their relationship and its depth.

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  5. I thought of Tom and Brock's relationship when I was writing this too. He is a special man too and some day Brock will be just like him....Special....

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  6. TY KR! I appreciate that. And I agree, Tom has been such a wonderful father to Brock and I know that one day Brock will be the same to his children bc of what he has learned from Tom. Love is amazing...and its so transsending when is it born from your heart...not your belly. Nothing against us moms, bc a mothers love (or fathers love for that matter) is like no other. But it does take a special person to allow it to grow and florish without boundaries. I count that blessing every single day.

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