I guarantee you will remember the tale of the Wooden Bowl tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now.
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year old grandson. The old man’s hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table.
But the elderly grandfather’s shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.
The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. “We must do something about father,” said the son. “I’ve had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.”
So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden
bowl!
When the family glanced in Grandfather’s direction, sometime he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.
The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked
the child sweetly, “What are you making?” Just as sweetly, the boy responded, “Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up.” The four-year-old smiled and went back to work .
The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.
That evening the husband took Grandfather’s hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the Remainder of his days he ate every meal with the Family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped,
milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.
On a positive note, I’ve learned that, no matter what happens, how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.
I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles four things: a rainy day, the elderly, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.
I’ve learned that, regardless of your relationship with your parents,you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life.
I’ve learned that making a “living” is not the same thing as making a “life..”
I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.
I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back.
I’ve learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you. But if you focus on your family, your friends, the needs of others, your work and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you.
I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.
I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one.
I’ve learned that every day, you should reach out and touch someone.
People love that human touch — holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.
I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn!
Happy Father’s Day, and Love your Parents and Family.
Thank you for this story, Populist. It applies to me today, right now as I leave to pick up my 89 yo mom to bring her over for Sunday brunch. My dad died nearly 20 years ago, so I can no longer enjoy doing those things for him.
This is exactly the story I needed to read today. Thank you.
The 25th of July will mark two years since my Father, John, passed away suddendly. Here is the most excruciating example of our failed relationship in the months before he died, and I’m almost reluctant to express it because it reveals me as having a streak of cruelty. At least where he was concened. I deeply resented many things that didn’t happen between he and I as I grew up and there were legitimate reasons for that resentment, but in his later years it served no purpose other than to further drive a wedge between us.
On Fathers Dat two years ago I bought him a card but never wrote in it or gave it to him because there was a deep rift between us at the time. I cannot tell you how ashamed I am that I never gave it to him. It sat on my dresser for another year. And I knew it was there. A reminder of things I didn’t want to admit about myself. He died the month after that Fathers Day and there sat that card until last Fathers Day when I finally wrote in it all the things I needed for him to know about how much I really loved and admired him. That no matter how old I became and no matter how our roles changed as I tried to become the Father that I thought he never was…that his hands would always be bigger and stronger than mine. That I would always be the little boy looking up. I put that card on his grave last year and asked for forgiveness. I hope with all my heart that he heard me.
Thank you for reminding me that life, and love, are fleeting and that there’s no time to waste on resentment and cruelty. It’s something that I’ve failed at too many times in all my relationships. Including with people here that I care much for.
I’ll be going to sit with my Dad for a while later today…
Peace
Thank you for this beautiful diary, Populist.
I lost my Dad twenty years ago and my difficult but very fragile mother is now living with me. In tears I am reminded by both you and Supersoling that taking care of her is the best way for me to please and honor my father every day.
Thank you all for the wonderful comments.
🙂