Narcissus 'Zinzi' - 31 March 2024 |
“I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.” Joan Didion
Since Rosemary died on December 8 2020 I have felt a special connection with Joan Didion. In her book The Year of Magical Thinking she began to write the autobiographical essays two days after the death of her husband John Gregory Dunne. In the book a lot of what I was thinking about Rosemary was reinforced by it. After that I went on a Didion spree and I have read all her non-fiction.
Now, as I write this in the waning hours of Easter Sunday, I have discovered something that I am sure Didion knew of but was never quoted on.
I feel very close to Rosemary when I sit to write in my oficina. When she was alive we did a lot of talking. I miss that companionship. Sometimes she would say to me, “Alex you look bored. Go downstairs and write a blog.” And so as I write I feel that I am writing a love letter to Rosemary. I don’t believe in hocus pocus but I do think that I am much closer to her in my mind as I write.
My eldest daughter Alexandra came from Lillooet on Friday and today she showed up late morning. Our plan was to visit a nursery. I didn’t have to tell her that going to a nursery on Easter Sunday was a tradition I had with Rosemary. We went to Phoenix Perennials and I spent lots of change. I bought two roses. One of them is an English Rose called Darcey Bussell. I had two, but one died in my lane garden. It is an unusually red rose. Out of curiousity I looked up the name and to my delight Darcey Bussell, 52, is a renowned English ballerina. Now I have two dance roses!
The narcissus in the scan here is lovely and I am sure that my plant snob Rosemary would have pointed it out to me. Because I have been scanning my plants since 2001 I sort of know how to do it. I first scanned the two flowers and something was missing. I cut a stem and added it and that worked very well.
After Alexandra left for her sister Hilary’s house in
Burnaby, I started a good clean-up in the
garden and potted a couple of roses. This would have been a job with Rosemary
and we would have had lots to talk about. Niño and Niña were my company but they said nothing.
While she may not be listening, there is someone in my head. I can see her smiling at the scan of the narcissus.