father and daughter playing chess

         My father shared many things with his children. He was a kind man and shared examples of being kind to people. He loved to bake and cook. He shared recipes and food experiments with all of his children. He treasured each one of his children differently, and each one had different experiences with him.

He was a gardener and gave me a love of plants, and fresh vegetables. He collected old-fashioned roses. He duplicated verses in the bible in his garden with every man his own grape vine and fig tree, but I don’t think his fig ever bloomed or produced fruit. He loved animals.

His greatest gift to me was a glimpse into the world of story telling. He always had a way of interpreting the present into the fantastical. The universe of the magically impossible was always present in his life and in his conversations. For me, as I aspire to tell stories that are important to me and should be shared with everyone, that possibility of magic and the underlying constructs of another universe are most important. Things that we should strive to understand are everywhere. We are not bound to the earth by the universe we can see. We are citizens of the heavens and other realms. It is important that we look within ourselves and become creators of the beautiful and the magical as we search for the meaning of our lives.

I think of my father every day. Something in my garden or in my home will remind me of him. He is ever present as I type stories at my laptop.

Please comment.

Like me on Facebook: marytkincaidauthor

Follow me on Twitter: @marykincaid2001

Follow me on Pinterest: marytkincaidauthor/blogger

Sign up for newsletter.


About Mary T Kincaid

Writer of fiction and non-fiction for children of all ages. Love the mental age where the rules of logic are suspended and there is a willingness to enter the story world no matter what your physical age.

Post Navigation

Leave a Reply

Be the First to Comment!