They say that our sense of smell invokes memories, more than any other of our senses. So, I shouldn’t be so surprised each spring. It all starts with the lilacs. With their unmistakable scent, the lilacs pull me right back to my childhood home. Not just to that home but also to those people.
For me, this is a bittersweet time. Both of my parents passed in the spring. My mother’s birthday was in May. Then there is Mother’s Day. But it doesn’t end there. Because Father’s Day is right on its heels. As I write this I am living into Father’s Day. So, naturally, I am thinking about my dad.
He was an apple farmer in western Massachusetts. He really worked hard on the farm and raising the five of us. Now I know he did his very best. But, truth be told, he was not an easy man. (I wonder what my kids will be writing about me one day. Lord have mercy!)
Our relationship with our dad was complicated by the fact that we all worked on the farm. So, in essence, he was also our boss. A tough one. He had a favorite saying that even now rings in my ears at times. Like once, I might have been 10, when he was trying to teach me how to drive the tractor. In those days, I was skinny, and I just didn’t have enough weight to get the clutch down. I was standing up and trying to jump on it. In the process, I drove over some bushel boxes. He shook his head in complete disgust, saying, “Helpless, hopeless, brainless, useless!”
Let’s just say, it was not something you would read in a parenting manual! Like I said, he wasn’t an easy man.
Perhaps typical of men of that generation, he just could not tell us that he loved us or that he was proud of us. He just couldn’t do it. As I look back, I do understand that he showed his love for our family by working to provide for us. But we really needed to hear it. Throughout my ministry, I have heard many stories of people who are still looking for that affirmation and approval. If parents, especially dads, could truly understand this, more than a few therapists would be out of business.
But when I was older and had left home to attend seminary, there was a miraculous breakthrough. And believe it or not, it was all because of a cat named Boswell! The cat was not welcome in the dormitory. So, I confess that I kind of dumped him on my parents. (Don’t worry — our daughter has since dumped a cat on us!)
This is when the miracle happened. I started to receive letters “from Boswell.” Here are a few excerpts.
nnn
Dear Val,
Today the farmer and I planted peas. I enjoyed playing with the string he was trying to tie up. Now I am sleeping on the farmer’s desk making it hard for him to write this letter.
I really enjoyed your visit last weekend. I know you are working hard at seminary. I think of you often.
Love,
Boswell
nnn
Dear Val,
I keep finding more places to nap around the farm. The barns are great. While the farmer sorts the apples, I nap and nap. I do always make sure he is in sight though.
One of the farmer’s friends visited your church. They said that you did a very good job. The farmer was so proud when he heard that.
When will you be home again?
Love,
Boswell
nnn
Dear Val,
Today the farmer and I harvested the pumpkin patch. The wagon was full to the brim. It isn’t easy keeping up with this farmer. But as soon as he does settle down in his chair, I jump right up in his lap.
The farmer’s wife said you would be home for Thanksgiving. I can’t wait to see you.
Love,
Boswell
nnn
Did you catch it? Hearing that my father loved me and was proud of me was worth waiting for. I guess you could say that my dad found his voice! Even though it came through a cat! Hey, I’ll take it.
I wonder who in your family or in your life needs your affirmation? I guarantee you that there is someone longing to hear these loving and supportive words from you. Don’t wait.
The Rev. Valerie M. Roberts-Toler is a retired United Methodist pastor. Midweek Musings rotates among Cape Ann clergy.