by Heather Plett | Apr 7, 2006 | Uncategorized
It’s not a picture that would stop you in your tracks if it were hanging in a gallery. In fact, you’d pass by and probably wonder if you could get your money back for this exhibit. No, it’s not exhibit-worthy or even frame-worthy. If you had taken it, in fact, it might be one of the pictures you’d cull rather than place in your photo album.
It’s a completely ordinary picture, but it’s hanging on my office wall in a place of honour – right next to my computer where I can see it while I work. It’s a picture of a patch of sunny yellow dandelions, growing near a wall. In the bottom corner of the picture is a shadow – clearly the shadow of the person who leaned over to take the picture.
Why is this picture on my wall? Let me explain.
Two and a half years ago, my Dad was killed in a farm accident. His death tore a huge hole in my life, and left me reeling from the pain. It’s true that “you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.” My Dad had always been a constant in my life – a source of wisdom, humour, stability, and inspiration – but I didn’t fully recognize any of this until death snatched him away.
When we were cleaning out the farm house, in preparation for the sale of the farm and mom’s move to the city, we found something that Dad had left behind – a camera. It was an inexpensive disposable camera and the film inside was full of the last pictures Dad had taken before he died. At the time, it seemed almost too much to cope with, so we set it aside and nearly forgot about it. My sister held onto it, always with the intention that she would eventually develop the pictures and share them with the rest of the family. I don’t believe my brothers even knew it existed.
A few months ago, more than 2 years after Dad died, I got an e-mail from my sister. She’d developed the pictures and scanned them. They were all attached to the e-mail. I sat there staring at my computer screen, knowing that I was about to open Dad’s last gift to us, his family. At the same time, I was a little afraid to raise my expectations – the pictures might prove disappointing.
I didn’t open them right away. I had to give myself time to process and prepare. I waited until my children were in bed and I was alone at the computer. I knew the emotions would overwhelm me.
When the first image opened, I breathed in sharply. The now familiar pain of memory poured over on me. It was almost more than I could bear – seeing Dad’s world through his own eyes. The tears began to flow as I clicked slowly from picture to picture.
If ever there was a sacred moment, this was it. It was almost mystical how much those pictures revealed the man we’d lost. Every picture told a little story about his life – what was important to him, where he found beauty, what inspired him, and where he spent many hours of his days.
All of the pictures were taken on the farm, a place he loved to be like no other place on earth. Every picture tells of his love of creation and his respect for the earth. The range of pictures spans a whole year – showing a view from every season. There are growing gardens, flowering trees, sheep, geese flying over the water – these are all things that my dad loved with almost a child-like enthusiasm. I remember times when he’d drag me across the yard, just to see a new bud poking through the earth or a new calf taking its first step. I remember the calendar entries in the Spring – “first sign of geese”, “frogs croaking.” This was a man who knew how to enjoy the beauty and surprises in creation.
Some of the pictures are of people he loved. One picture shows Mom with her bicycle, one of her favourite possessions. Another one shows two of my daughters in the garden. In one winter picture, I’m standing beneath a tree, peering into the branches at someone I believe is my nephew.
A few of the pictures must have been taken by mom, because Dad is in them. My second favourite picture (also hanging on my wall) portrays him carrying a yellow bucket, amidst a herd of sheep. Dad loved sheep. He owned them just because they fascinated him so much. He particularly liked the imagery in the Bible where followers of Jesus are compared to sheep with a shepherd. In Dad’s sheep pasture, near the highway, was a sign that read “My sheep hear my voice and they follow me.”
That brings us back to the dandelion picture. What makes this one special? Well, just like sheep, Dad had a special love affair with dandelions. He thought they were among the most underappreciated gifts of God’s creation. He believed that not enough people stopped to look at dandelions – to really appreciate them.
Now you can understand why a picture that shows a shadow of Dad leaning over to take a picture of dandelions is one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received in my life. And the gift goes far beyond the picture. The real gift is having had the privilege to be raised by a man who taught me how to marvel at little things like dandelions, to see God’s hand in everything, and to let even those things that others call weeds teach me something valuable.
Here, for your reverent viewing pleasure, are my favourite pictures. The next time you see a dandelion, think of my Dad, and breathe a little prayer of thanks. (Cuppa, I still remember the tribute you did last year – I was so touched!)
by Heather Plett | Apr 6, 2006 | Uncategorized
I’ve got a bit of a buzz going today, ‘cause there have been lots of fun surprises lately. Sometimes in life it just feels like a door opens up and the world starts throwing little gifts through it. I’ve been on the receiving end of that door lately. All of them are fun and most of them are exciting because they may open up even more doors. Here are a few of them:
1. I got my advance copies of Geez Magazine today – dropped off by the editor himself. On page 87 of this fun and irreverent magazine (whose subtitle is “holy mischief in an age of fast faith”) is an article by yours truly! Here I am doing that dance again!
2. Yesterday I had a very cool lunch with Steve Bell, who’s an awesome singer-songwriter (who also happens to be a Juno winner – that’s the Canadian equivalent of the Grammies). It looks like Steve and I will probably work on a music video project together. What fun! Steve is a really amazing person to talk to – full of passion and ideas and lots of deep thoughts.
3.Steve put me in touch with another guy, an editor of another magazine who’s working on building a community/network of people involved in arts/faith/creativity – something I’ve been longing to be involved in for awhile. After lunch, I e-mailed him, and we’re getting together for lunch next week! More fun!
4. When I got back from lunch with Steve, I got an e-mail from my old friend Ian Ross (also known as Joe from Winnipeg). Ian and I used to write and produce plays together back in the day. Since then, he’s gone and gotten himself famous (won the Governor General’s award for playwriting – the highest award you can get in this country) and we’ve lost touch. I ran into him last year, and now we’re finally getting back in touch. I think we’ll do lunch soon.
5. Earlier this week, I also had lunch with a very cool writer, and one of my best friends – Michele. Michele is busy writing her second text book. I only wish text books had been written by cool people like Michele back when I was a student.
So you see I’m on a bit of an artsy/creative buzz after all these serendipitous pieces started falling into my lap. (It also sounds like I’m doing a little name-dropping, but I really DO know all these cool people!) I love it when I get to hang out with people who inspire me and make me want to be more creative. All of the above moments had that affect on me.
by Heather Plett | Apr 3, 2006 | Uncategorized
1. para-sailing in Mexico
2. seeing my babies for the first time (I guess that’s technically 3 great moments, but who’s counting?)
3. learning to do a 360 on a kneeboard (pulled behind a boat)
4. hiking to the top of Sulfur Mountain
5. taking the incline railway up to the misty top of the mountain in Interlachen, Switzerland and hiking back down
6. sleeping in a tent on a farm in Kenya
7. hiking to the ocean in Washington State and watching my dad carve his name on the boardwalk (and carry home some rope washed up on the shore)
8. sneaking into Green Gables on Prince Edward Island
9. taking a boat out onto a very deep lake in Montana on our honeymoon
10. boarding my first flight on a family trip to Edmonton
11. saying “I do”
12. riding the tram-car in San Fransisco and shouting “Oh no, not the bunny cuffs!” to the street performer (along with other members of my somewhat crazy family)
13. watching my brother Dwight eat a six-inch high canned-meat sandwich somewhere in a park in B.C.
14. riding the ferry from England to Belgium and meeting up with my sister, ccap, at the ferry station
15. sitting on the beach at White Lake watching my children play
16. eating at the Russian Tea Room in New York City
17. sitting on the side of Norquay Mountain watching the meteorite shower with my husband
18. watching my brothers and husband jump off the waterfall at Rainbow Falls
19. eating crepes in Quebec City (I won’t mention the OTHER things we did in Quebec City, but suffice it to say, it was a very romantic weekend!)
20. seeing elephants and zebras and giraffes and lions in the Serengetti
21. backpacking in Banff with my sister-in-law
22. watching fireworks at Ile des Chenes
23. eating watermelon with extended family near the playhouse at Mom and Dad’s farm
24. sleeping on the deck of a ship on the Mediterranean
25. riding horses with my brother and closest childhood friend, Julie
26. laughing about magic soap on a snowy trip to Denver
27. sitting around the campfire at Carberry Bible Camp
28. a cooking class and a bottle of wine with Linda, Michele, and ccap
29. seeing my name in print the first time I got published (and every time since)
30. our first weekend in the camper, at Hecla Island, when we told family members we were expecting Maddie
31. sitting on a quiet beach at Korfu, Greece after everyone else had gone home for the day
32. eating butter chicken and listening to good music at the Folk Festival (again, multiple moments, but I can’t pick one particular favourite)
33. sleeping on the rocks on an island in Lake of the Woods (until it started to rain)
34. riding a glass elevator up the CN Tower while on a high school band trip
35. riding down into the Royal Gorge in the snow
36. hearing the word “mommy” for the first time
37. stepping across the finish-line of a 20 mile walk-a-thon when I was six years old
38. watching my dad win the stooking contest at Austin Thresherman’s Reunion
39. going to the Sarah McLachlan concert with ccap
40. sleeping next to an open window in a hostel in Venice, with the sounds of party boats floating down the canal
Ah, it’s been a good life so far!
by Heather Plett | Apr 1, 2006 | Uncategorized
Today I returned the cradle. Ed’s cradle. The one he lent me when Nikki was about to be born. “I want it back,” he said, “when I have grandchildren.”
Today I returned it to his widow. There is no Ed there now. There are no grandchildren to rock in that cradle. There may be grandchildren some day, but Ed won’t be there to hold them.
The house was quiet. Ed’s house, without Ed. His wife looked empty. Holding up, as best she can, but empty. They were supposed to have a long life together. They were supposed to spoil their grandchildren together.
I feel this sadness I can hardly name. For Diana, for their sons, for the grandchildren that will never know Ed.
He used to call me Heather-bell. He would have been a good grandpa.
There are so many things in life that don’t make sense.
