Something happened this year that has never happened before – I filed for an extension of time on taxes. Yes, I know what some of you are thinking, why are you talking about taxes in October – that shouldn’t be until April! Thanks to Uncle Sam, you get a six month extension if you file, and suddenly, they aren’t due until October 15th. And, just as every year I vow to get my taxes done by the middle of February, yet actually get them done just before or on April 15th, so I fully intended to get my extended taxes done by June, and actually got them done on October 15th. I was waiting for a key bit of information, which ended up coming from a simple phone call, on October 15th (which, btw, could have been answered in the Spring).
All of this means that I had THAT tax burden weighing me down for the past eight month – my initially intended deadline. And the thing about this burden, is that you think it’s not there but it is and it grows heavier each day it’s not taken care of. That’s not to say that you are always aware of the burden – like when you're on vacation, it’s easy to not think about – yet, as my family will attest, I got grumpier and grumpier as time wore on and the burden wasn’t unloaded.
So, on Thursday, October 15th, at about 4:10 PM, my burden was finally unloaded, or actually, uploaded to my Uncle Sam. By 4:12, I was on the back patio, sitting in a chair – looking at the clouds, my roses and the vegetable garden – all without a hint of guilt that I had not taken care of THAT burden. I felt light, I smiled, I even laughed out loud, and I trimmed the spent blossoms off my long neglected roses. While trimming I started to think about all the things I had put off until after I had unloaded THAT burden. Projects were put off, my mind wasn’t focused, or some ideas were abandoned altogether. I don’t think I will ever fully know the cost of opportunities lost.
Then this afternoon, October 16th, I attended the service for the wife of a former co-worker who passed away two days ago, after a seven and a half year battle with ovarian cancer, her name was Laura Kelman. It was the first Jewish service I had attended. Eulogies were given by her husband – my friend - and by her two sons-in-law. I had only met Laura, very briefly, once or twice, so I didn’t really know her – the over arching element of the eulogies was her love of laughter and friends. One of the things her husband quoted, speaking of when we die is, “Let it not be said that life was good to us, but that we were good to life.” He went on to say, that it is not about the lives who touched us, but about lives we have touched. It was told by these three men and by the Rabbi, that when people came to visit her, even near the end, Laura’s focus was on them and what was happening in their lives. The Rabbi used the analogy that each life is like a quilt, only the many pieces of fabric are not our life’s experiences, but they represent those who we have touched, and so, they become a part of our life.
So on the way home I was thinking about that analogy, and the gardener in me surfaced – our lives are like a garden and those who lives we have touched become the plants in our ever expanding garden. The plants are of many kinds of varieties and each has a unique shape, size and effect on our garden, but they all add to the beauty of it. Some are fragrant, some provide shade, some are showy, some are subtle. The more plants we have, the greater the beauty of our garden and the more inviting it becomes. Think about it, if we were the only plant in our garden, it wouldn’t be a very appealing place. And, if our life is self-focused, it’s not very inviting either.
Now, combining taxes and the garden – just like a garden overrun with weeds, it is difficult to really enjoy the garden unless we get rid of the weeds. If we take care of them early on, weeding regularly, they are easy to get rid of and don’t take up a lot of our attention – though it does require consistent attention to check for and remove the small weeds. If however, we let them grow, the weeds become larger and larger and the effort to remove them becomes greater, more time consuming and can even seem overwhelming. And left long enough, the weeds can impact the plants of our garden – causing them to become stunted, to compete for nourishment and possibly even to die. This year, I chose to let the weeds grow and, though not utterly devastating, it caused me to neglect my plants and even kept me from planting more of my garden. But with those overgrown weeds removed, I can focus on pruning and tending to the plants of my garden.
I wish I could say that I will always have my taxes done by the middle of February each year – but I don’t know if that will be the case. But, I hope my garden analogy will stick with me and at times when I’m thinking about letting the weeds grow, I will pick up my bucket and head the garden to pull them out before they become a burden that grows larger each day. I want to tend my garden with care and hope that I can be a plant growing in others gardens – in a spot that suits them and will add to the peace and beauty of their garden.
PS - I have been sitting in my garden this afternoon, while writing this and thinking about each of you.
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