#2001 thinking about my dad

Yesterday was a nice day for the middle of February in Salt Lake City. The temperature was around 50 degrees F (10 C). The sky was blue and the sun was shining. There was a chilly wind out of the west, but it felt like a day to get outside, especially since a winter storm warning was in place for Sunday and Monday. (In fact, it is snowing now.)

I made my way up to Red Butte Garden. Most of you who read this site regularly know that I volunteer at Red Butte Garden and more than that, it has become a kind of sanctuary for me. When things are overwhelming and causing me stress or anxiety, I know that if I go to RBG and I can usually get my mind right and clear just from walking around in the garden. I think the magic of the place for me is that it is one of the few places where I am totally present and in the moment. I don't listen to music. I'm usually alone. I pay attention to everything around me, always looking for new plants that may be blooming at a given time, or admiring my favorite trees (I have five favorite trees there) or even watching for wildlife like bunnies, hawks and snakes.

The first thing I noticed when I walked into the visitor center was that the newest quarterly magazine was out. The company I work for placed my dad's name in the In Memory section and sure enough, there was his name on the page. I really love that Granite did that for me and my family. It was absolutely the perfect thing. My dad only visited Red Butte Garden one time, in May a couple of years ago when he was here for T's graduation. He got to see it at one of the most beautiful times of the year when the viburnum and the wisteria were blooming. The garden smelled so fragrant and colorful the day he was there and he totally fell in love with it, even though he only got to see a tiny portion of the place. I think what he loved the most about RBG is that he knew it gave me great peace and satisfaction to spend time there. Whenever we talked, I would often mention something I had seen at the Garden or tell a little story of something funny that had happened.

I definitely had my dad on my mind as I walked through the visitor center and into the courtyard. As always, when I push open the door and walk outside, I was enchanted. Even though it is winter and not a particularly beautiful winter at that, I always think the courtyard garden and the four seasons garden above it is spectacular. On the right are the red-stemmed dogwoods. There are no leaves on the bushes, but the stems are bright red and they are stunning against the grays and dark greens of the rest of the trees. The Dr. Seuss tree (it's really some kind of pine tree) is on the left, looking like it came right out of Whoville. Up on the hill the Russian hawthorn trees are all bare and you can see there are five trees, but when they are leafy and blooming, they look like one giant tree. Underneath the hawthorns, daffodils are blooming, just a few right now, but I know that within weeks the whole hillside will be covered with yellow and white blooms.

I felt my throat tighten and my eyes burned a little as I felt tears welling up. I made my way up the path and sat on a bench. The sun warmed me while the wind cooled me so I was exactly the right temperature and that's when grief overtook me completely. I cried and cried. I think I might have whimpered a little, but there was no one around, and even if there had been, I don't think I could have stopped myself. I miss my dad. Most days I am fine and I feel just a little sad, but some days the loss is too much to keep inside. Maybe it was seeing his name in the magazine, or maybe it was going to happen anyway, but I mourned yesterday sitting on that sunny bench in Red Butte Garden. I can tell you it wasn't the first time I have cried like that since he passed away, and it almost certainly won't be the last time either.

When I finally pulled myself together, I took a quick walk around the Garden. The pond has been drained, probably to clean up all the cattails and other stuff that grows in there. Because the pond was dry, the waterfall wasn't flowing either. The Garden is still wonderful. It was fun to look for little early blooming crocuses and daffodils and to see the tulip greens poking out of the ground. Some of the trees look like they want to start budding. Don't do it, trees! Winter isn't over yet.