The Beloved Weed

A handful of you have the privilege of knowing my dad, Gary. To those that know the entire story behind our family, you know he is a walking Saint. Besides Sainthood, and also being a great dad, he is also an exceptional Grandpa. How do I know this? I can see the spark light up in Mallory's eyes when she is with him. It is a different admiration than the one she has for her dad, but it ranks right up there.

For as long as I can remember my dad has been pretty obsessed (in a good way) about his yard. Now, it's not just the grass itself, it's the entire yard. From tree to shrub, edge to edge, his yard is amazing.

A few weeks ago Mallory, my dad, and I (oh and I'm sure Lucy was along on her leash as well) were walking around the yard. Mallory ran over to a spot where the wood chips meet the grass and exclaimed, "Grandpa look at this tree!" My dad quickly corrected and said "Oh Mallory that's not a tree that's a weed!" At that moment I thought he would get down on his hands and knees, quickly dig out the weed, and ditch it, hoping no one saw the weed growing in his yard. But he didn't. He and Mallory bent down and looked at it, admiring how big it was. Mallory said something like "Wow that sure is a big tree!" Clearly not understanding the difference between a weed and a real tree.

Fast forward to last Friday. We were all sitting around Mallory's sandbox when she runs off up the hill towards her beloved "tree". "GRANDPA! It has DANDELIONS now!!!" You should have heard her excitement. I hung my head, laughing, thinking this is it for the poor weed. Dandelions...it's a goner. My dad went up the hill and together they inspected the beautiful (and large) weed. Once again, I was surprised. He didn't get his shovel. He didn't dig it up. He just let it be.

Today's project after preschool for Grandpa and Mallory was to transplant the weed. They dug it out of the wood chips, careful not to destroy the roots and moved it to a nice spot in the garden. My dad educated Mallory on how to dig the right size hole to put the weed in (like he had been transplanting weeds his whole life), helped her place the weed in its new home, and then filled up the watering can so Mallory could water her new plant. We aren't sure if the weed will turn into anything much more than a pile of leaves. We are just hoping it survives the transplant.

The weed is just one small ounce of proof that it truly is the small things in life that evolve a person. Gary will always be the World's Greatest Dad, to me. However, to a special 3 footer, he is the World's Greatest Grandpa. Through her eyes, I would have to agree.