Turn Up The AC

Apple Seeds

April 08, 2021 AC Fischer, Alexis Arralynn Season 1 Episode 71
Turn Up The AC
Apple Seeds
Chapters
Turn Up The AC
Apple Seeds
Apr 08, 2021 Season 1 Episode 71
AC Fischer, Alexis Arralynn

Anyone can count how many seeds are in an apple but how can we possibly know how many apples are in a seed?...

Special thanks to Alexis Arralynn for encouraging me to write...

Be sure to check out my other podcasts When The Bough Breaks and What I Like About You...

If you'd like to record your own episode of Turn Up The AC, send me an email to find out how [email protected]...

To hear our conversations with Dave Warnock, visit www.wtbbpod.com and www.likeaboutyoupod.com...

Thanks to itsjustnikia for introducing this episode!

Support the show (https://www.buymeacoffee.com/acfischerpod)

Show Notes Transcript

Anyone can count how many seeds are in an apple but how can we possibly know how many apples are in a seed?...

Special thanks to Alexis Arralynn for encouraging me to write...

Be sure to check out my other podcasts When The Bough Breaks and What I Like About You...

If you'd like to record your own episode of Turn Up The AC, send me an email to find out how [email protected]...

To hear our conversations with Dave Warnock, visit www.wtbbpod.com and www.likeaboutyoupod.com...

Thanks to itsjustnikia for introducing this episode!

Support the show (https://www.buymeacoffee.com/acfischerpod)

It’s easy to determine how many seeds are in an apple. It’s impossible, though, to know how many apples are in a seed.

When my father was nearing the end of his life, he had very few requests. Of course he wanted to know that my mom would be taken care of, that my siblings and I would get along, and that his grandchildren would know how much he loved them. 

At the same time, he wrestled with fear. He experienced the ultimate test of his faith when he stood on the brink of finding out if he’d spend eternity at the right hand of Jesus, or something else. Or nothing else.

He also struggled under the weight of a lifetime’s worth of regret. Like all of us, he’d have handled certain things very differently if he were given the chance. I don’t know the nature of his private conversations with anyone else but with me, he spent a lot of time apologizing. He wanted so desperately to undo things that couldn’t be undone, and to take back words that couldn’t be taken back.

I forgave him but he couldn’t accept it.

When I asked him what kind of funeral he wanted, he surprised me. “Remember me for who I really was. Don’t pretend that I was a saint. People know that I’m an ass hole, and I don’t want lies at my funeral.” His words were sincere but impossible to digest.

He went on to say “I don’t want a bunch of sad-sacks crying over my casket either. I love life, and I want everyone to celebrate it. I’ll be in heaven, so don’t feel bad for me. If anything, I should feel bad for you!”

Here I was about to lose my father, and he’s cracking jokes!

When the day of his funeral (or celebration of life as he preferred) came, it was an honest but surprising affair. While I’d more or less arranged everything, I had no idea what would be said in remembrance of my dad. I knew that the pastor of his church would say a few words, and I knew that there would be a portion of the service where anyone would be welcome to share their thoughts at an open mic.

The pastor started off by talking about how difficult my father was to get along with, and how he’d originally found that to be off-putting. He went on to share how much he learned to appreciate the thing about my dad that had originally been so difficult. In his words, my dad had a way of communicating like he was shooting an arrow straight to the point, with no apparent concern with the consequences.

When the invitation for people to share at the open mic was put out, a surprisingly long line of people began to form. Some I recognized as my dad’s friends. Some I recognized but had no idea my dad had known them. Some I didn’t recognize at all.

All of these people had been affected by my father in powerful ways. There was a girl who was starving herself to death until my dad convinced her that she deserved to love herself. She wouldn’t have been standing there if not for him noticing a complete stranger in pain. She thanked him for the gift of her own life.

There were so many stories like hers that showed that he had a hugely positive impact on the world around him. Sadly, he never really saw that.

My dad was introspective enough to think about the seeds in his metaphorical apple. The sad thing is that he was blind to all of the apples that had grown from the seeds that he didn’t realize he’d planted.