Image: 20170410_0005_palm.jpg
Image: 20170410_0005_thumb.jpg
Text: 20170410_0005_text.txt:
- When my dad died in 2006, the assisted living residence sent a plant
- for his funeral, a bright and distinctive orange-blossomed hibiscus.
- My mother and I kept the plant, which stopped blooming after weeks of
- flowering.
- Early in 2007, when my mother was diagnosed with cancer, the hibiscus
- once again began to bloom. She insisted on it going with her as she
- traveled among hospital rooms and nursing homes, and all that time it
- continued to bloom bright orange flowers.
- After my mother died on April 10, my father's birthday, the hibiscus
- again stopped blooming. The next year, in the spring, it bloomed again
- one more time.
- For the following years, I had an attractive green plant growing in my
- front window. New shoots would sprout in the spring and every so often
- I would repot the hibiscus. It was a memory of my parents, but it did
-
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≫ More 20170410_0005_text.txt
Image: 20170410_0006_palm.jpg
Image: 20170410_0006_thumb.jpg
Image: 20170410_0007_palm.jpg
Image: 20170410_0007_thumb.jpg
Image: last_project_1_small.jpg
Text: last_project_1_text.txt:
- When my dad was very old and had to go into the assisted living place
- he left one unfinished project on his lathe. I never knew what he had
- intended it to be, but I turned it into this candlestick which would
- be consistent with both his projects and mine. So, at the end of life
- we collaborated sequentially on this last project.
Image: legacy_cactus_and_chest_small.jpg
Text: legacy_cactus_and_chest_text.txt:
- This photo combines a Christmas cactus which my mother had been given
- many years ago and the chest of drawers my father inherited from his
- ancestors in a symbol of their legacy.