EAST MEETS WEST

Sunday, August 5, 2007

Daddy

This is not going to be a sad blog, but I have to mention that today marks the sixth year since my dad died.

Ever since, Geoff and I have dedicated this day to Daddy, usually by doing the things that he loved to do or by eating the foods he used to make. When we lived in North Carolina, we would go hiking in Pilot Mountain around the knob where we held his memorial service and then make Daddy's barbecued ribs for dinner. Today we remembered him by making fresh tomato and bacon sandwiches (which Daddy used to make using his own home-grown tomatoes) then visiting the zoo.

Last time Geoff and I visited the zoo, we walked through the Hummingbird Aviary, and it reminded me of my dad. He loved birds and raised pigeons growing up. When I was a kid, he nursed an injured pigeon ("Gloria") back to health. He had a colony of prolific zebra finches and a million bird feeders around the house. And he loved the hummingbirds. After Daddy died, we planted a special tree in his memory. Just before we put it in the ground, a hummingbird flew around and around the tree. It was comforting.

At the San Diego Zoo, there are plaques all throughout remembering loved ones. I thought it would be really cool to have one for Daddy, maybe in the Hummingbird Aviary or one of the other aviaries. A donation of $5000 will buy a plaque, and all of the money supports the zoo and its conservation efforts. Apparently you can set up a fund or something, which would be nice, because I think we could come up with the money with the help of family and friends by 2011, the tenth anniversary of his death. Ryan liked the idea, so that's our goal.

2 comments:

Laura said...

how do you donate cutie?

Mary K. said...

I think about your Dad a lot. I guess when you are friends as little girls (which I consider 14 & 15) parents are still big figures on the scene. They decide if they are going to give you a ride to Rock-ola, or let you have a surprise party, or even let you in the door to see your friend! I'd never really been around a family quite like yours. Your mom wrote books... in Spanish! Your dad bought your makeup, made homemade shortcakes and played a Martin guitar.

Your dad wasn't a forgettable guy, a highly charismatic man, in love with his girls, always teaching, patiently explaining and showing us new things. That's what I think of when I remember Rick.