We walked side by side around his small garden as he told stories about each plant and tree that thrives in this little paradise. His eyes sparkled when he spoke of the many hours and days spent tending to them. Love pours from his heart to every creature he cares for — from the smallest flower in his garden to the three dogs that roam happily around his house, to the tender gestures he extends.

My 85-year-old daddy is not a perfect man, but I could not have asked for a better dad. Indeed, he has become a beautiful example of a life well-lived.

I am currently visiting my family in South Brazil, where I grew up. As the years go by, the precious moments I spend with them have become increasingly important to me. Perhaps it’s the season I find myself in, with our first child starting college next year and our youngest becoming more independent each day. Maybe it’s just the realization of how short our time on earth truly is as I watch my parents age. Perhaps it’s just priceless wisdom that only comes with time. Regardless, I have learned to slow down and indeed seize the few days I share with my folks each year.

As I thought about Thanksgiving next week and while observing my dad’s routines and the way he responds to life’s issues, I realized that this man holds the key to a long, healthy life.

Dad came from a very modest upbringing and did not finish law school until I was 10 years old. He was the first and only person in his family to attend college, thus establishing a comfortable life for his children. Regardless, Dad has undoubtedly had his share of troubles and heartaches. Divorce and starting a new career as an attorney at 50 years old after the company he managed for 25 years went bankrupt, are just a couple of examples of the trials he’s faced.

I have witnessed men and women go through similar circumstances and become bitter, increasingly grumpy or depressed. My father, on the other hand, seems to have been able to overcome each hardship and come out on the other side, wiser, and more tenderhearted. While spending time with him, one quickly realizes that his joy and peace rest in living a simple life and cultivating a genuinely thankful heart.

[bctt tweet=”My father’s joy and peace rest in living a simple life and cultivating a genuinely thankful heart. #Thanksgiving2019 #Thanksgiving #MondayMotivation @AJC” username=”PatHolbrook”]

While others will see the bad in people, Dad is always looking for the good in them. Unless someone crosses the line of hurting one of his children, he will always give them the benefit of the doubt. And, most of all, he looks at each detail of his life as a gift from God.

“I am so blessed, Babutchka!” he says, using the nickname he gave me when I was but a toddler. “Look at this flower. How can anyone not believe God?”

“I spend most of my prayer time just thanking God. I don’t need anything,” he said the other day when we talked about the Lord.

What a treasure to witness someone who knows the end of his journey on this earth cannot be too far away and yet approaches it with joy and thankfulness. His thankfulness is not based on much money in the bank or a fancy home or excellent health. His body is frail, and walking has become increasingly difficult these days. But his eyes hold the spark of a young child who knows that his daddy will hold his hand and guide his steps ’til the end.

My prayer is that I will reach the end of my journey on earth with the same grateful heart and hopeful spirit, fully aware that God was faithful through it all.

[bctt tweet=”My prayer is that I will reach the end of my journey on earth with a grateful heart and hopeful spirit, fully aware that God was faithful through it all. #Thanksgiving2019 #Thanksgiving #MondayMotivation @AJC” username=”PatHolbrook”]

Today, as I type these words, I watch the wind blow in the trees in my father’s garden, where birds joyfully sing in their branches. My cup is full as my heart bursts with gratitude for the little, simple things. A lesson that has been exemplified by the man whose life preached the gospel to me, even before I knew there was a God in heaven who loves me even more than he does.

This article was originally published on Patricia’s column for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution on Saturday, November 13, 2019.