In what now is an evidently long life, I can state that only two women lovingly wrapped a scarf around my neck.

The first was my Argentine girlfriend Susy who would feed me Swiss cheese sandwiches and when I was about to leave, she would place a scarf she gave me around my neck to help me fight off the terrible Buenos Aires winters.

It was for an assignment in Victoria in the late 80s that in a windstorm I lost her scarf. I was horribly depressed as the scarf was the only direct material connection to Susy.

For years Rosemary and I collected scarfs of all kinds and we even bought a lovely Pendleton one in Seattle. But it was perhaps about 5 years ago that she gave me the softest cashmere scarf. It is my absolute favourite. As I put it on, its softness is a direct connection to Rosemary’s ever so feminine softness and grace.

These colder days, when I walk Niño around the block, taking the same route that Rosemary took with Niño, I feel so very close to her.

I especially remember when Niño lingers at some garden what Rosemary told me, “Don’t yell at Niño. Be patient.”

With that scarf covering my mouth I would not even think about it.