Cyclamen coum 7 November 2024

My mother often told me how her father, Tirso de Irureta Goyena had taken her to a toy shop a week before her birthday to choose her present. He died a few days later. On the day of her birthday a package arrived at the door with the doll house she had picked an it included a signed birthday card. My mother who, was a little girl went to her mother, Dolores Reyes de Irureta Goyena and told her that her father had not died and the gift was the proof. My mother wrote a lovely poem called the posthumous gift.

A Posthumous Gift - My Mother's Poem

Today in my mail box there was only one piece of mail it was from the Vancouver SPCA addressed to Rosemary. Inside there was a lovely brochure with photographs of dogs and cats who had received care thanks to people like Rosemary who had contributed funds.

Looking at the photographs of the pets and Rosemary’s name on the envelope with our Kits address I felt sad but at the same time wondering if I was much younger it would all be proof that Rosemary was alive and well and upstairs on the bed. “Alex did we get any mail?”

Rosemary had a few obsessions for things like expensive Italian leather purses and scarfs. We would take our pick of the scarfs on any winter day. We shared an expensive Pendelton we went to Seattle to buy.

One day she gave me this soft cashmere scarf which is the only one I now wear. Its softness is all about Rosemary’s softness.

Today on my way to buy corn tortillas at Fresh is Best on Broadway I passed a flower shop. Outside they had these very beautiful white Cyclamen coum. I could not resist. Rosemary loved them and as a connoisseur she especially liked their marbled leaves. I knew that the moment I got home I would scan the plant. It was a tad tough as I had to balance from a bamboo stick the flower pot upside down. I managed.

The scarf is Rosemary’s softness (she never shouted, always soft-spoken). The cyclamen is Rosemary’s purity of heart.