It Helps Us to Say Thanks, Part III

Two years ago, I posted a blog about my poem that my brothers and I agreed to have engraved on the memorial paver at Como Zoo and Conservatory in honor of our parents. About a year ago, the paver was installed, but it took me this long to get over to take a look. The reason it took so long for the installation was because the weather conditions were not ideal – the ground was too soggy from rainy days. The reason it took me so long to get over to take a look is another story – other plans kept getting in the way.

Finally, that nudging feeling to go pay a visit won the battle against my procrastination.  The day my son and I visited, the weather was similar to when I visited during It Helps Us to Say Thanks, Part I. It was so warm, the animals sat close to the walls of cool buildings whether they were inside or out making it difficult for us to see them.

The brick looks very nice and is settled amongst other memorial bricks.  The shade from the trees gave the paver a shadowy look.

After we visited some of the animals, we went to The Ordway Gardens which is a recent $2.8 million addition to the conservatory. We looked at the indoor gallery of bonsai trees, and I couldn’t help but take these pictures along the outdoor path:

I wonder if the sign above says “thanks” in Japanese.

The new Japanese garden is the only place in Minnesota that has a top-curated Japanese plant collection. It was if we were carried away to another place.

Even though Mom and Dad wouldn’t have wanted us to make such a fuss with the paver, I’m glad we took a long time to say thanks.  😉  Visiting Como was one of my parents’ favorite things to do so it’s nice to see the place continue to grow and improve.

Silent gratitude isn’t much use to anyone.  ~G.B. Stern

 

 

 

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It Helps Us to Say Thanks, Part II

A year ago, I wrote about some fun times at Como Park Zoo and Conservatory in a blog post called It Helps Us to Say Thanks.  My brothers and I thought it would be nice to get a memorial paver there in memory of Mom and Dad.  We suggested that memorials be given to Como in honor of our Mom who died last year.  We recently submitted a poem that we all liked, but it didn’t get approved because it was too religious.  It wasn’t really a poem:  It was a prayer!  Since the zoo is a public place, they said they could not inscribe a prayer on a paver.

So I wrote this instead:

Thanks Mom and Dad
For the family that we were with you,
And teaching us truth in all that we do.
By showing us what is wrong what is right,
And helping us keep our attitudes bright.
By having you laugh around our small brood,
It helped us to stay in such a fun mood.
By caring for us and showing the way,
Work is important but so is to play.
By loving the world in which we do live,
All of creation it helps us to give.
Kindness to people and animals too,
Tending the flowers and trees as did you.
By thanking the wind the sail that it blew,
Moving us along to explore what’s new.
By missing loved ones when they go their way
We do that now too, but memories stay!

Mom loved flowers and they both loved to sail.  I thought this would be a nice remembrance!  I hope Como thinks so too.

It Helps Us to Say Thanks

Can you find the frog?

They say the frog has been at Como Zoo since 1923, but when I looked at the pond, I thought it looked different from when I was a kid. I remember a small, greenish blue pool with wild things growing about. Now the frog lives in a very nice large pond surrounded by trees. Since the frog’s head looks straight towards the conservatory, he does not see the white pergola that is up on the hill just to the right of him. It looks as if the frog would be able to see the conservatory where he sits. He might even have been able to witness all the additions and improvements that have been going on over the years, if such a thing was possible.

The Como Conservatory

Pathway to the Sunken Flower Garden

The conservatory is where I went on field trips with my grade school classmates. We learned what banana trees look like and saw other sorts of vegetation that does not normally grow in Minnesota. After seeing all the greenery, we were happy to gaze at the surprising beauty of the colorful flowers in the sunken flower garden. It was nice to see that building has not changed, just as the frog has stayed the same.

These Photos are from the Sunken Flower Garden

All the talk about banana trees, led my classmates and me to the monkey. The monkey lived in a building where he could go look outside at us humans from behind bars, and then we could see him from inside the building too. Their homes used to look like something straight out of a Curious George Book. The lucky monkeys that live there now will soon be swinging about on a new and very large island that is being built just for them.

I quickly walked around the zoo since the humidity and heat caused rivets of sweat to stream down my back. A giraffe posed for me and seemed happy that I was taking his picture. The polar bear that just arrived from the recently flooded Duluth Zoo was hiding behind a rock trying to stay out of the scorching heat. The lions moped about and didn’t even want to play with their toys. Even Sparky the Seal was not scheduled to perform. The sea otter looked to be the happiest as he swam around in the circular pool of water gladly accepting little fish that the visitors bought to feed him.

There are lots of treats for people too. The antique popcorn wagon is always fun to see, and there are many other stands decorated with big bags of cotton candy where treats such as pop, hotdogs, and ice cream bars can be found. Now there are even places for people to sit down to eat.

There is even an amusement park where people who enjoy rides can visit.  It seemed as if their screams were muffled by the thick air. Nowadays, the beautifully carved carousel that was built in 1914 is protected by a large circular brick building.

Toby the Tortoise

I circled around the Toby the Tortoise statue to read some of the commemorative bricks. Some bricks show a path that is slightly worn down by the many people who have walked there. A lady’s face is etched into one brick, and another brick remembered the couple who walked around the park every day. If Mom and Dad were here, they would say not to make such a fuss because that was their way. Yet, when I saw the Como Friends magazine sitting on Mom’s table and remembered the times we visited the zoo and conservatory together and the picnics we went on, I thought it would be a good place to request donations in her memory. My brother agreed with me and said that Mom had asked to go for a visit there a few days before she died. Even though Mom and Dad wouldn’t want the fuss, it helps us to say thanks.

Now all we need to do is figure out what to put on the brick.

Cemetery Thieves Cause Emotional Rollercoaster Ride

courtesy of kimberkraft

As I looked to make sure that the words were spelled correctly, and that the dates were right, I started to feel that I needed to get some flowers. I hadn’t thought about getting flowers when we first arrived, but since it was Mother’s Day, it was the right thing to do.  Luckily there’s a flower shop close by. While we waited for the lady to put together a bouquet, my husband and I walked around the store. I had never been there before though I had driven by many times.

“Do you have any water?” the little man with gray hair asked me.

“No,” I said.  He must have noticed that I looked lost.

“The water isn’t on in the cemetery yet. I can get you a pop can filled with water.”

“Thank you.” It was a weird feeling, being at the cemetery without my mother. My mother and father always made sure that we paid our respects and visited the cemetery every Memorial weekend. It was a family outing, the kids going with Mom and Dad and even way back, with my Grandpa and Aunt. Mom used to bring peonies from her garden for my Grandma’s grave.

After my Dad passed away, my children and I went with Mom to make sure that the gravestones were swept off and that there weren’t any mysterious critters lurking about or grass growing where it shouldn’t. I cleaned off my Grandma’s grave most of the times because she was the one I never got to meet. Like I used to do when I was small, my kids read the dates on the gravestones trying to see which were the oldest.  Plus we made sure that no one ever stepped on the markers.

Mike and I went back to Mom’s gravestone. I unscrewed the bronze vase, poured in the water from the pop can, and placed the bouquet of flowers inside. Mom would have loved the sweetheart roses.  I know it would be important to Mom to have flowers placed on her grave and being remembered in a respectful way since it was always something she did during her lifetime.

The next week, I had to go back to the cemetery to make sure that the vase was put back the way it should be. Even though I called the cemetery and they assured me that the workers put the vases back, I just wanted to be sure.  Plus, I had a funny feeling.  When we pulled up to the familiar spot, I saw that someone had thrown the dried up bouquet on the side of Mom’s grave, and the bronze vase was gone. We looked around and saw that many other vases were gone. The grave markers looked so bare because there were holes where a vase had once been. I looked around and saw all the empty spots, and it made me so sad. A place where most people come to pay their respects had been tragically dishonored.

When we got back into our car, I told my husband that I felt violated.  I tried to imagine what type of person would steal from a cemetery.  That sad feeling stuck with me for days even though I tried to push it away.

On Thursday, when I came downstairs for breakfast, my husband told me that there was an article in the newspaper about how lots of vases had been stolen from gravesites from three different cemeteries on the north side.

“Did you bring that paper home from work yesterday?” I asked. We only get the paper delivered to our house on Sundays.

“No,” he said. “The paper was out on the steps this morning. This is today’s paper.”

“Isn’t that weird?” I kept asking over and over again.

“Your Mom wanted you to see what was going on,” Mike said.

If you want to read the article, click here.

On Friday morning when our clock radio alarm went off, the first news story we heard was that the vases had been found in a park.  I hope all the media attention scared the thieves off forever.  The vases are being inspected by the police for any signs of evidence, and then will be returned to the cemeteries.  You can read about it here.

I was very happy to hear that the vases were found and will be returned.

I wasn’t planning on going to the cemetery this weekend, since I was just there twice, but since it’s Memorial Day, it’s the right thing to do.

Mom’s Daffodils are Smiling at Me

Almost nine years ago, I looked inside the brown paper grocery bag Mom handed to me.  It was heavy.  There were around 100 flower bulbs in the bag.  Little pieces of dirt hung on to some of them, and other dirt fell off and got lost on the bottom of the bag.

“Did you dig all of these out of the garden all by yourself?” I asked.

She nodded yes.  Mom was 77 years old at the time, and I marveled at her strength and determination.  How could she dig all these bulbs out of the garden all by herself.  Her little frame of a body could be blown away by a strong wind.  She dug them out a little bit everyday until she was rid of the ones that she no longer wanted to decorate her garden.

“Mom, I can’t plant all of these in my garden.  I don’t have enough room.”

“You can give some of them to your friends.”

So I planted the ones that I could, and I gave some away to friends.  I planted the daffodil bulbs in the small garden in the corner of our yard.  I started at the front, and I spaced them out by the length of the handle of the shovel that I used to dig the holes.  Mom instructed me how deep the hole should be, and she made sure that I knew which way the bulb should point.  If you plant them upside down, it doesn’t work.

As I dug each hole I understood what Mom must have been going through when she dug them out of her garden.  Not only was it something for her to do and if you have a little bit of anger inside, I found that it is good to dig with a shovel into the ground.  Even though you think you understand why things happen, how the circle of life keeps turning, and how there is nothing we can do about it, I understood Mom wanted the flowers to bloom in my garden.  She wanted them there as a memory of my Dad who died earlier that year.

The next spring, the beautiful daffodils pointed their faces towards the sun and smiled at me, like I always hope Dad is doing. Every year since then, and this year, they are blooming beautifully.  Mom joined Dad almost two weeks ago now.  I am thankful for the many gifts she gave me, and right now I am especially thankful for the daffodils.  Mom’s daffodils are smiling at me, and I could use a smile right about now.