Then I was called away unexpectedly when my father passed away. He was an avid gardener when I was little, and he also dreamed of homesteading. As we moved from house to house, he dug smaller and smaller garden plots. His love never waned, though, and while going through his books (we took forty boxes of books to a resale store for my mom) I was touched to see several old books on homesteading and organic gardening. Having studied for the ministry at the University of Chicago School of Divinity, he also had many books on spirituality and religion. He died with very little money, but these books and his love of Spirit and the Earth were my inheritances. Today I write earthy spiritual books.
In fact, I learned while back home helping my mom that Sacred Land has been chosen as a semi-finalist in the Independent Publishers Book Awards under the category “Most Likely to Save the Planet” as one of the “Outstanding Books of the Year.” Dad had always wanted to write, and though he did smatterings here and there, he never wrote his much-dreamed-of book. I sense that from his new perch on the Universe he is pretty proud of my accomplishment. It was he who planted the seeds that have gotten me to this point. In his way, he too helped to save the planet.
Well, I arrived home to find the Colorado soil dry dry dry, so I dragged the hose through the garden at ten o'clock at night, reacquainting myself with the plants (and weeds). In the dark I watered and talked and petted, and I discovered a small miracle. My grape vines have leafed out. I dedicate them to my dear dad: May you taste the wine of Infinite Love as you embark on this next passage of your Journey.