If you find me feedin’ daisies
Please turn my face up to the sky
And leave me be
Watchin’ the moon roll by
Gordon Lightfoot
The Watchman’s Gone
I guess most of us want to leave our mark on the world, something that people will look at and remember us for. Something tangible and worthwhile. Maybe even something beautiful.
In times gone by, before autopsies and embalming and sealed burial vaults, people passed over and were buried. They returned to the earth and fed it. Flowers were planted on the grave and took sustenance from the people below.
The circle went on.
Lately I’ve been thinking that maybe the best thing I could leave behind would be to provide sustenance to some beautiful flowers as my body returned to the earth. And then it occurred to me that my wife and I took care of this long ago.
Our three children are our wildflowers.
Their seeds were sown in loving passion, in that most ancient of rituals that mankind somehow knew before the first teachers came into our company. The seeds germinated and began to grow.
There was no sheltered flowerbed of special soil provided for them, just plain old rocky dirt that was exposed to the unpredictable weather of everyday existence. Still, they somehow grew straight and tall and vibrant and beautiful.
They aren’t clones of my wife and me, but their own variety of the basic stock they’re descended from. So very different from their beginnings, with a small part of us that you can see in all of them.
Our wildflowers.
that’s beautiful TW
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Thanks, Annie. 🙂
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So true 🙂
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🙂
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OK, I literally just woke up and this is the first thing I’m seeing today. So beautiful. I’m breaking into salt over here!
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Smiles your way. 🙂
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Are you trying to make me cry? Jerk…
JK lol That was lovely, Tim! 😀
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🙂
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Lovely.
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They are. 🙂
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Beautiful!
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Thanks. 🙂
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I love this line . . . “Still, they somehow grew straight and tall and vibrant and beautiful.” Poetry.
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Gee thanks, Robin.
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Very beautiful 🙂
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Thank you. I’m happy you like it. 🙂
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I really did. Very touching.
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Thank you, Tim. I was having a trying day, and your post reminded me of the beautiful wildflowers sleeping in the room next to me. Congrats on your wonderful and worthwhile contributions to this world.
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I’ve been writing for a few days, and thought I would come up for air to see what I’ve missed. Lovely, lovely sentiments here, Tim. So glad you put them to paper to share with us.
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Thanks, Maddie. Went to observe as my son defended his master’s thesis this morning. He did well. I just about busted a button. 🙂 It’s NaNo Madness time.
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His master’s – very nice. You certainly did raise some great wildflowers. Were you more nervous than he was – or were you both quite zen? … NaNo. I was having more fun blogging.
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He was well-prepared and kept his cool, even during the Q&A period after his presentation. I drank coffee and smiled a lot. 🙂
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I’m glad you had a great day! 🙂
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A great piece, Tim. You and your wife are the soil that nurtured. As a proud parent myself this was a touching post!
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What a lovely garden. : )
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Beautiful image, Tim, and so perfectly expressed.
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Thank you, Naomi.
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Reblogged this on T. W. Dittmer and commented:
I still think this way, that my children are my gift to the world.
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This was a beautiful post, Tim. Your wildflowers are your legacy. You are a lucky man.
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Thank you, John. I’m darn proud of them.
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