There is something about the smell of grass when it is freshly cut. It’s almost like the grass is saying, “thank you.” I respond by getting off the lawnmower and kneeling on the ground as I wipe my hands over the grass, as if I am saying, “you’re welcome.” Seriously.
Growing up, my parents were big on landscaping. They passed the bug on to me. My grass today looks like Fenway Park, if I may say. It’s almost a stress relief, that combination of the sound of the mower and the smell of the grass.
One thing I did not expect was my son Bradley loving it as much as I do. He may only be 18 months old, but he’s already mowed the lawn with me numerous times. I remember a few months ago mowing the lawn and he would just stare out the window screaming my name in excitement. He wanted on that lawn mower and he wanted it bad. One day I gave in and placed him on my lap. If heaven came to earth, this was it. He was completely content and happy as we mowed the lawn. It was true bliss.
Mowing the lawn with my son may seem so small. It may seem more of a nuisance. For me, it's not. It's something that I love and look forward to. It's times like these that our relationship gets deeper. It's these times where moments and memories are made.