Giving gifts

It's funny... the little things that cradle big emotions.

A small driveway pebble, chosen because it was available, given with the words, "Remember me, Grampa"

A gift bag, decorated with figures whose arms and legs poke straight out of their heads...

A small, Honeysuckle vine that grows with fierce vigor, flowers from early spring till the winter snow flies, given as a tribute...


An Evening Primrose that produces brilliant blossoms... which by evening wilt to a salmon colored clump. A memorial gift...


The pebble has traveled thousands of miles with Grampa. He gets a little misty when he handles it.

Can't remember what gift was in the decorated bag, but the bag hangs in the work room, holding flower petals.

Honeysuckle vine = "bonds of love" in the language of flowers. I remember that whenever I look at that vine.

Evening primrose = "inconstancy, changeable"... and so it is in days, weeks and passing years.

Don't just throw money at father's day (or any occasion!) and call it good. Find a stone. Give a part of yourself. It lasts so much longer than a tie.

My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth. I John 3:18