Pulling Weeds.

Growing up, we lived one house away from my grandparents. What a gift to my sister and I (and probably to my grandparents too). Every day from kindergarten to my senior year, I went to their house for breakfast every single day. We had assigned days for the menu, Mondays and Wednesdays were for my choice of cereal, Tuesdays and Thursdays were eggs any style and Fridays were for French toast. One thing to note was that my Poppa also fresh squeezed orange juice for me every morning. If you have ever squeezed oranges by hand, you will know that this is a true labor of love. It takes a lot of time and also energy. And yet, every morning, my fresh squeezed juice was waiting. 

There are a lot of memories I have with my grandparents - too many to ever put into words. An incredibly vivid memory of Gran and Pops was their yard. They had a fairly good sized yard by Southern California standards and every inch had been touched by their hands, whether it was my Gran's roses and sweet pea garden or the countless hand laid bricks by my Poppa. He also had a pretty incredible greenhouse which was always fun for hide and seek. 

Poppa's cactus flower

Since we spent so much time at their house, we often found my Poppa out in the yard picking weeds. I used to think it was so cool because he had these little special hand tools for the tough ones, but he mostly used his leathered hands to pull them out. One thing I remember distinctly was the importance of pulling the weeds by the roots to make sure that you pulled it out completely. Without the root, you were just scratching the surface and the weed would grow right back. 

I have been pulling weeds with Thomas in our backyard and these memories of my Poppa come flooding back. Thomas loves to throw all of the weeds into the trash. He is incredibly helpful. But I find myself passing on Poppa's wisdom about getting the weeds at the roots. I am not sure Thomas understands just yet, but I hope to keep finding ways for him to recall these kinds of life lessons. 

What a metaphor for life. We have to get at the root of everything and with all that our world has faced in recent months, we have a lot to root out. But also to continue the work, one root at a time. It is not a job we can just mow right over. It is slow and painstaking, but worth it because you want the grass to grow and thrive. 

Keep pulling the weeds. Get at the root. And teach others to help you. It is better when the work is done together.