When I scanned Rosa ‘Abraham Darby’ again today (the fourth time) as the rose deteriorates somehow I remembered my granddaughter Rebecca now 20 and visiting us for a few days and architect Arthur Erickson.

Perhaps the compressed-in-time (a few days) scans of my last summer rose reminds me of past events that I can remember so well but that my Rebecca cannot. So I reminded her of these special memories of mine that I shared with her. I told her that one day she will want to repeat them to others.

Rebecca may have been around 8 when we were invited to a garden party at Arthur Erickson’s house.  When we entered the house for the buffet Rebecca sat in a wing chair in the living room. At the time Erickson had a minder called Cheryl Cooper who immediately told me, “Rebecca cannot sit in that chair that is Arthur’s exclusively.” Erickson overheard and interjected, “The little girl can sit there if she wants.” I took the opportunity to introduce Rebecca to Erickson. “Rebecca this is Arthur.” Rebecca replied, “That is not Arthur as he does not have a lot of hair.” I immediately guessed that Rebecca thought that this was supposed to be King Arthur. Erickson (who luckily could not hear all that well, asked me, “What did she say?” I answered, “That she likes you.”

Another time, perhaps a year or two later, I was having a hamburger at a picnic outside of the Museum of Anthropology with a distinguished looking older man. Rebecca came up to us and seeing the man said, “You look familiar. Who are you?” The distinguished man answered, “I built this place. I am Arthur Erickson.”