That was not to be! Before we knew it, we had 18 inches of snow piled up in some really interesting places and the power, cable and phones were down for the count.

It was beautiful in its own way. The picnic table had 3 piles of snow (2 benches and table top) that looked like they had been poured into forms, the shapes were so perfect.

The real story for us was getting the driveway cleared before the snow became ice.  We had pine branches down and trees bent down to touch the ground. We had two snow shovels, one good one and one one that was just holding on. We also had two 50+ year old backs and one 16 year olds. We share a driveway with two other families. You could see the nervousness in my 70 yr old neighbor’s eyes – could he shovel even a small path  and not hurt or kill himself. My other neighbor, with whom we share a driveway did not even have a snow shovel. To make it even worse, the pine tree branches bent down and broke off all over the place.

But I digress, after all, this is supposed to be about my son. While my wife, my step-daughter, my neighbor and I were out shoveling our little steep shared driveway I stopped and called my son in Pittsburgh to share this unique experience.

This past fall he and his wife bought their first house. Its a little place but it is their place and I know the sense of pride in ownership they have. As would be expected from my #1 son, they had already done some gardening before the weather got too cold.

But now they were facing the same snowstorm we were digging out from. And for this young man, born and raised in Orlando, FL and who went to college in St. Petersburg, FL, this was his first chance to shovel a driveway! Me, I grew up in Pennsylvania and had to shovel snow from an early age. You don’t forget the sore back and muscles even after living 30 years in the Sunshine state.

I thought I would hear bitching about the hard work, but instead I got “no problem, Dad, its almost fun, being outside”.  Of course he has 1/10th the driveway I have and a back that is 25 years younger, but it was fun to joke with him about this new experience and losing his virginity.

I am really enjoying watching my little guy grow into a wonderful adult. I can’t wait for the next experience.

Somehow I managed to share with him my love of gardening, and now we have a piece of my garden in common as well.  It is not often a parent is blessed to share a hobby with their child and even more difficult to do when you live 9 hours apart.  It gave me a wonderful feeling to be able to gift him with a piece of this home for his home.

I look forward to years of sharing not just our love but our love of growing things.  It feels great to know that he values the same love of all things green and growing.

BTW – if I can take a moment to brag – my son is a 2nd year PHd candidate at University of Pittsburgh in Ecology and Evolution.  Here’s a link to his page and picture of him in his lab.  http://www.pitt.edu/~tonsor/people/MarninWolfe.html

http://jennylitchfield.wordpress.com/2008/01/29/my-garden-unep-plant-a-billion-trees-in-2008/ 

I just had to tell my father how his concern for the future had such an impact on my life.  As a teen I absolutely hated the time I had to spend doing yard work.  I bitched up a storm and genuinely made myself as unpleasant as possible.  I still ended up doing the work, but never got to enjoy it. My bad!

Somehow though I found myself drawn to growing things as a college student (I once had 100 houseplants I carted around from apartment to apartment), and spent some of my spare time at a little nursery near my university.  I even had a 6 ft ficus growing in a pot behind the headboard of my bed (it was like sleeping in the woods, sort of). 

From there I found myself planting stuff whenever I could at whatever apartment I lived at if there was some bare dirt at the front door.  Since then I have planted more and more elaborate gardens at each house where I lived.

But the legacy my father left me was not so much to be a gardener.  He really never was much of a gardener.  He had terrible allergies and hay fever (one of the reasons I got to do the lawn work).  However, he told me his goal was to plant a tree at every house he ever lived that would outlast his time in that place.  He had a notion of leaving behind a living legacy.

I have re-visited the houses where I grew up and there are beautiful trees in each lawn – a 40+ year old red maple in one place, evergreens and a gorgeous crabapple at the other.  His most recent home has had its challenges with pear trees that break apart.  But he is still working on leaving his legacy behind, even as he enters his late 70’s.

After reading Jenny’s blog though, I had to tell him that his legacy would continue through my efforts and I fully expect through the efforts of my children. 

As children my parents encouraged us to plant trees.  The synagogue would hand out these little cardboard coin holders and we would fill them with our quarters and each filled holder would go to plant a tree in Israel.  Somewhere in Israel, my siblings and I have more than one tree we helped plant in a forest planted by thousands of American Jews.

As an adult I have followed his example and planted trees (and gardens) in each of the houses I have owned.  I signed up for the Billion Tree project and planted three trees this past fall.  I am sure I will plant more as the years go by and will work hard to make my little woods stay healthy.

Somehow, magically I have passed this love of planting things on to at least one of my children.  Today he is a Phd candidate doing research in the environment and plant biology and genetics.  He left his first rental house a little better off than when he got it, planting a little garden in the back yard.  He has experimented with growing veggies and herbs too.  I suspect that when he gets the chance he will put tree roots in the ground and make a stand for the future as well.

There is even hope for my other son who, when we first moved to these parts of North Carolina would not go outside.  Now he hikes and camps out with friends.  He has even come and helped me re-plant my small piece of lawn.

What a legacy for a parent to have, to see into the future and plant the seeds of knowledge and vision!

If making contact is holy work I was doing the divine’s holiest work that night.  As unready in my head as I was to be a parent, my heart knew better. Every part of me was connected to this 6 lb 7 oz wonder, wrapped up tight in his blanket, laying his knit-capped head on my shoulder.

Looking back 23 years I can still remember the chair we sat in for hours, the orientation of the room, and the feel of his little body pressed up against me.

On this, his birthday, I want to thank the divine for all that was given me on that holiest of days.  No matter what has followed, through all the ups and downs of parenthood, I will always remember that holy night.

If you have a moment in your life when you felt truly blessed, a divine moment, that holy contact, please tell your story here.

When I am with people I am thinking thoughts on what I am going to say (if I am even interested in what they are saying) or thinking about other things I could be doing.

When I am in the world I am thinking or doing but not being present.

Making contact with the divine is holy work.  It is prayer. If god is in everything, then making contact with other creatures, people, or a rock is an act of connecting to god.

It may be divine, it may be holy, but it sure is a lot of work!

When have you felt connected to another or to the divine? Do you find it easy or difficult to be present for the opportunity of a holy connection?