Today after church I was thinking about my parents. Probably partly because it was Father's Day and partly because it would have been my mom's 70th birthday yesterday and partly because it would have been their 47th anniversary last Thursday. But mostly just because I miss them both.
I went outside for a few minutes to pick strawberries from our garden. Partly because I love strawberries and partly because I love being in the garden. But mostly because when I'm in the garden I can think.
As I was picking strawberries I was actually trying to think about nothing. Because sometimes that's the easiest thing to think of when I'm feeling sad. I remember at one point thinking, it's a lot hotter out here than I thought. And then the sky started to sprinkle. It was barely even noticeable at first, but over the course of a couple of minutes the rain turned to fat drops and continued to fall for a minute or so before stopping. I set my strawberries down and with my face turned toward the sky and arms outstretched I enjoyed the feeling of the rain falling over me for just a minute. It felt like a gift.
Then, almost as soon as it started, it was over. Just a quick little gift from above. I'm not sure what people get to do in the life after this one, but I imagined my parents watching over me, knowing I was sad, and trying to let me know they were there. Maybe my mom was watering her gladiolas and sunflowers and, for just a minute, sprinkled her watering can over my house. I like to imagine that my dad turned on a hose, stuck his thumb over the nozzle, and sprinkled down his own raindrops. Then dad got that mischievous twinkle in his eye as he pointed the hose at mom, and laughed as she emptied her watering can onto him, causing big, fat drops to fall.
I create these kinds of stories about my parents in my mind sometimes. Partly because I miss them so much and partly because I like to imagine what they may be doing now that they are together again. But mostly because I know that they are happy and that they want me to be happy, too.