Useful Treasure
My father radically invests in things he believes in, like me. And these bits of junk he's relentlessly saved for a finest hour which may or may not come.
Today we were at The Big House and my dad was looking around at the things he's collected in the backyard.
His formal and informal tools, pots my mother had abandoned, and bunches of assorted wires, pieces of string, and small bits of chain tucked away in handy places for when he's tying up plants.
I'm ashamed to say I referred to some of it as garbage. My father didn't argue. He just stated what the things were.
He picked up the stainless steel bottom of a pressure cooker missing the handle and lid and thumped it with his big worn hand.
This is useful.
Sometimes I poke my dad by calling him a miser.
This is another thing I am ashamed of because the truth is that my father radically invests in things he believes in, like me.
And these bits of junk he's relentlessly saved for a finest hour which may or may not come.
What is visible in this habit of my father's to collect and save?
A deep commitment to the earth and not thrusting into it something that can be used instead of it becoming eternal waste.
A desire to take care of us all. To save us some money and time perhaps. To share both his wares and wisdom.
There is so much hope and kindness embedded in these tiny acts of saving. So much intelligence to treasure.
I pray that next time my words are not hasty, that my eyes are unclouded, and that these moments to love and affirm are not lost.