Dear Eddie, A great pleasure in my life is watching you. Over the years, cameras have repeatedly captured my rapt expression as I watch you carrying on. You could be talking to friends or students. The look on my face says, “Oh my, where is he going with this? But, ain’t he somethin’!” In the Dollar General the other day, I spoke to a former student. He asked about you, of course. He said, “Dr. Rob would start off talking like a normal person, and then the botanist would kick in, and I would not have a clue.” And, when the Dr. Rob persona kicks in, I sometimes wonder “What on Earth” And, I find you have touched a heart, eased a pain, brought a memory or a smile. I love watching you talk.
This morning at the cabin, in the cool after a long rainy night, you are asleep on the long couch. One cat is behind your knees; the other is balanced on your hip. You rolled over when I moved out of the cradle of your arms. I think of watching you piled up with grandbabies on that couch, and I remember you with our kids. I remember a baby CJ sleeping on your chest, and I remember a small Nate sleeping in your crotch with ABear and you saying you once slept like that with your dad in Walter Cronkite days. I smile, watching you sleep.
And I watch you work. Once it was rewriting lectures every summer. More recently, it is you working in the garden for hours every day since last frost. We joke about how many sets of clothes Papa sweated through today. We also have the prettiest flowers and the tastiest table imaginable. Facebook kicked up a memory of Aryn eating white raspberries out of one hand and broccoli out of the other. And you are playing with the Farm Market again this year. I adore watching you teaching Abby how to make garden bouquets with the right kind and number of stems and the fillers of mint or basil or oregano. Your mama taught you well. I love watching you work.
So, in this week which began with Father’s Day and includes our 49th wedding anniversary, let me assure you that I am still watching you, and I am fascinated!
Love, Sylvia