One of the Last Things My Dad Taught me.

( Not actual Trees I was to lazy to go take a picture and besides it's snowing out there.)

"What difference does it make?"

There I was, kneeling down on the ground next to a freshly planted Red Crimson Maple Tree. My Hands were covered in dirt and it did, I admit, look quite pretty there between the other two Maples and three Blue Spruce. "You know" I say to my dad, whom I'm helping. "These Maple trees aren't going to make it." Wayne County is not really the best climate for most vegetation. My dad Looked at me and said "Cathy, What difference does it make?"

I had completely overlooked the purpose of the whole experience. That was, Spending time with my dad, doing something we both enjoyed. I have never forgotten that moment in my life, nor the lesson learned. It was made even more potent to me when my father died the following winter. Those poor little Maple trees never died. they would just freeze each winter and then send out a new shoot each Spring from the ground, But you should see the beautiful Sruce trees. Now every time I question myself in a, seemingly unproductive, activity I'm doing with my children I ask myself "Cathy, what difference does it make?" and we continue, because it isn't, necessarily the results that will always have meaning. It's the things we learned and the time we spent together while reaching the results that matter the most.