A few years ago, when we were still living in California, T.M. (Bob) connected up with his cousin Dennis. They were the same age and had participated in some coming of age hi-jinx during the summers that my husband spent in San Antonio, Texas during his youth. Dennis’ subsequent visit to California was a revelation and a renewal. We vowed to make up for lost time.
I gasped when I first saw this long-lost cousin. He was the image of T.M.’s father, who I called Big Bob. And he had the same mannerisms. A slow, southern way of speaking, circumspect and wry. And a way of gesticulating with his hands, rotating and rolling them first, as if they were the “pumping-up” mechanism to get the words going.
We became good friends because Dennis and I connected beyond just the family – as gardeners, as naturalist enthusiasts. Standing in our front yard that year, the two of us had a priceless and magic moment when a humming bird buzzed down a foot away and then settled into the birdbath for a long, splashing bath!
We began to email regularly – about tomato varieties and birds we had seen. Fabulous photographs and fun facts. When the Canada Geese and the Monarch Butterflies began their migration from Minnesota to the southern climes, I sent along wishes that they might pass through San Antonio.
We looked forward to meeting his Diana.
And when that was not to be, we renewed our vow to have Dennis come to Minnesota and/or travel south ourselves.
That was not to be, but we shared some priceless, magic moments.
MEMENTO – DENNIS SCROGGIN – 1934-2012