-Bob Riffle has passed away

[Dave Butler]

(Wal @ Aug. 23 2006,22:47)

QUOTE

(TooShort @ Aug. 24 2006,08:22)

QUOTE

This is a very sad Topic, I really think this topic of Mr. Riffle should end on a happy note. I`m sure bob appreciates all the kind things everyone has been saying if he was alive. But I believe that Bob would want us to continue with this Forum as it was meant to be. Discussing palms and sharing photos not dwelling over his unfortunate demise. So lets all move on I`m very sure bob would want the same.

I concur, it's not harsh, it's life, it moves on and so should we.

Write a book Dianne, you've got ample material.

Diane,

I don`t want to sound unsympathetic about Bobs passing

but its time to let this wound heal. Reading all the posts about past good times is just like putting salt in a opened wound.

I have to agree with tooshort lets end this on a happy note.

[bgl]

Dave,

I have no intention of attempting to speak for Diane, but I do speak for someone (=myself!!) who has thoroughly enjoyed all of Diane's memories and thoughts about Bob (and everone else's as well!). Needless to say, we all deal with the loss of someone in different ways, which is exactly why I believe it's important not to impose our own desires or feelings on others. If someone has a hard time reading the posts in this thread, then don't read them! I also happen to believe that when we lose someone close to us, it's very healthy to bring up all sorts of memories, happy and maybe otherwise. You say "let this wound heal". Well, my guess is that people let "wounds heal" in different ways. Personally, I can't think of a better tribute to Bob than if this thread were to be kept alive for a LONG time.

Bo-Göran

[Diane Kirkland]

Thank you Bo.  

I am concerned about negative posts in this thread because many many of Bob's friends and family are reading it and printing it out to save with his books.  

I have received dozens of messages -- PMs from inside the forum and email from people outside reading as guests who are comforted by the condolences as well as the stories.  

I just sent an email to Mike Burnett to see if the thread name could be changed from "...passed..." to Memories & Stories.  I don't know if that's possible.

At any rate, I only have one or two more that I'd planned to post because I would rather leave the thread positive and not let it segue into something negative.  If that discussion is important to some, perhaps it could be had in the Palapa.

[Diane Kirkland]

For 25 years, I managed a large CPA (certified public accountants) firm in downtown Seattle.  April 15 was the big tax deadline.  On April 15, 1997, at 4:34 pm, probably one of my busiest hours of the busiest days of the year, I got this assignment from RLR:

"and, since you have so much free time today, get on the net and find all you can about

DAVID FAIRCHILD"

Bob later sent me some of David Fairchild's books -- I especially love the one about The Kampong, The World Grows Round My Door.  I'm sure he's mentioned many times that David Fairchild was his only childhood hero.  I was looking at this book this evening and found a couple passages that could have been written by Robert Lee Riffle.  The first follows and the second will be posted in the photo thread:

“Shall I have the patience to sit for hours at my desk scribbling symbols which I hope will convey to others what they mean to me?

“If I could possibly show some who may read what I write that there is a fascinating world of living things, a world whose voices are the whisperings that the wind makes, and whose personalities have no suggestion of the passions, ambitions, sorrows, longings, even the speculations about eternal woes or eternal happiness with which almost every thing connected with the life of humans seems to be overloaded, --if I could show them this, I might leave behind me on the library shelves something that perhaps would last longer than the trees on The Kampong.

“Should this more or less true picture of a family and a garden and a house of this epoch bring pleasure to others, would other families build places like this one, at least places where they could play with plants?”

David Fairchild, “Waves of a Long Life”

The World Grows Round My Door

[BS Man about Palms]

Yes, I have to echo what Bo and others have said.  For the people that would heal via learning about Bobs life and nuances, Dianes inputs and anecdotes are a welcome reprieve. Without it, where would those of us go, that would like to honor and pay tribute to RLR by learning as much as we can about him?

Whereas if remembering RLR for more than a short time is troublesome to some, it is very easy to not read this thread or venture into this area of the forum.

I can see that it could bother some to always see his name as Forum section, and at some point, maybe it could be linked to the archives or moved to the Palapa as a whole. I could support that in the future.

Diane, Please continue as you can, I can see your recovery as you reminisce in each of your posts.

Thank You.

Bill

[Walter John]

I am concerned about negative posts in this thread

Not negative, no way. The opposite was intended.

[Diane Kirkland]

Thanks so much, Bill.  I think, too, that eventually the section will be moved to less prominent positions (in stages).  

You always pop up when I've been hearing "Golden Oldies" so I'll tell you a story about today.  

Every Friday I meet my sister for brunch halfway between her house in the Tacoma area and mine in Kirkland.  Usually after brunch while driving home, I'd put on my headset and call RLR so he could keep me company in the inevitable Friday traffic jam (20 mph on the freeway).  

I was having the expected thoughts when I decided that since the conversations were usually the same every time, I'd have it in my head.  They frequently started with his saying "Where ARE you???"  He hated my cell phone and it was especially difficult for him to hear me when I had the headset on.  The conversations didn't last too long -- as the traffic cleared, I would hang up and watch what I was doing.

Anyway, the conversation in my head was sort of fun but then the traffic cleared so I listened to the radio instead.  The song, The Great Pretender was playing and I sang along with the last few lines:

"Oh, Yes, I'm the Great Pretender

Just laughing and gay like a clown

I seem to be what I'm not, you see

I'm wearing my heart like a crown

Pretending that you're still around"  

Since I'm more like Martha Stewart than a teenie bopper, I once surprised Bob so much by saying something was "Way kewl" that he snorted vodka out his nose.  

I thought that song playing at that moment was way kewl.  :>

Complete lyrics.

[Diane Kirkland]

The opposite was intended

Gotcha.  Thanks.

[STEVE IN SO CAL]

I ditto Bo...after hearing that RLR didn't like the pissie-ness that sometimes pops up here, I respectfully kept my mug shut. I'm always surprised why people don't just "not read this thread", and stay in the plant related threads.

We lost my wifes father the same week, so all this has caused me to reflect quite a bit. We've decided to go ahead and do a major remodel that we WERE going to start in 5 years. But decided, hey, looks like we're gonna die someday...let's do it now.

There's a bunch of us out here that are liking the stories, Diane. So tell all you can...Steve

[Diane Kirkland]

Thanks, Steve.  I just came in from the garden (almost dark now at 8:30 pm), and your message made my hort feel warm again.  :>

To both you and your wife, I'm sorry for your loss, too.

One of my good friends is someone Bob Riffle liked to "read" -- his name is Dan Hinkley, a plant explorer, and he had a VERY entertaining plant catalog for his Heronswood Nursery.  

In an email today from him, Dan shared something he learned recently when he lost someone he loved dearly very unexpectedly; I'm going to give this a try:  

"Think of him making you laugh, or you making him laugh and try to hold it there without going into the whole of loss. I know that is so much easier said than done, however it is a place that you will ultimately find yourself. "

So I'm practicing that; the thoughts have a big STOP sign at the laugh.  

More stories coming.  I invited the whole family up tomorrow (which is why I was gardening in the dark) for a picnic for my brother's birthday, so there will be a little delay.  

Now I'm headed for the kitchen to cook for awhile.  Bob was fascinated by what he thought was my ambitious entertaining, often having my garden gang of 12 over for dinner and giving him semi-hysterical bulletins on my progress in getting ready.  His comment was always, "Well, as long as you're having fun."  And then he'd chuckle.  (stop)

D.

[Jeff Wilson]

I haven't been here in a while. Haven't really read any of the posts. Just wanted to say that Bob went out of his way to help people on a number of boards, and I respected him immensely for doing that. I don't think he ever had an unkind word for anyone. I never had the chance to meet him, but he was always amicable in his correspondence with me.

Jeff

[Al in Kona]

Since I've been away and off island for over two weeks, I just found out today the sad news of RLR's passing.  My condolences go out to his family.  He had a passion for plants and palms in particular and he shared it with all.  Repeating Norm's words above,

Aloha nui loa, Robert.

Al

[Diane Kirkland]

Whatever RLR wrote for publication, he always sent to me for editing and my opinion.  One of my favorite articles was the one below.  Due to space considerations when it was published, some of his most delightful comments were edited out leaving it a bit more factual and less Riffled as it were.  This is the original article sent to me almost exactly 1 year ago.  It's happy reading; enjoy...

Montgomery Summer

It was 10 years ago when I first visited Montgomery Botanical Center.  At the time I think it had a different name but I can’t remember just what it was, something like “Montgomery Botanic Garden.”  In any case, that first visit was a revelation.  The strongest memory I have about the place from that date is the quietness!  There were only a few people wandering around the extensive grounds and I believe they were all Montgomery employees and they were mostly unaccompanied, thus making absolutely no noise.  The few who approached my path invariably smiled and waved, especially the ones in the “golf carts.”  The second impression, of course, was the scenery, and especially the plants; I knew (and still know) of only one other place in the continental U.S. that, in any way compares: Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden.

These two memories of the place abide with me still, a decade later, and but reinforce my love of MBC.  It invariably seems to be more populated now, and I’ve noticed an increase in the number of Homo sapiens on each successive visit in the last 10 years, along with an even greater increase in the number of palm and cycad species.

In spite of those good ol’ days the most salient memory for the next 10 or 20 years may turn out to be what occurred this April and July.  I was invited to attend the IPS (International Palm Society) directors’ meeting held at MBC in late April; and, unlike most events to which I must drive, I actually went to this’n!

It was, first of all, great fun, partly because of the location but also because of the people, many of whom I’d never met before.  I knew, of course, the Texicans like Bill Baker (from Austin), Jim Cain (former presidente of The Society) and Horace Hobbs (past presidente); and I had met Libby Besse and her husband, Byron, a couple of times in Texas. The Bishocks, Faith and John, were there and, as usual, provided most of the laughs I had on the entire trip—they should do standup—John DeMott of Redlands Nursery in Homestead also occasionally provided some welcome humor. Last but certainly not least of the people I already knew were Drs. Scott Zona from Fairchild and, of course, Larry Noblick.  The people I’d never met before included Sue Rowlands, Randall Moore, Leland Lai, Bo Lundkvist, Tim Cooke, Jeanne Price, John Rees, José Antonio del Cañizo Perate from Málaga, Spain, Jeff Brusseau, Leonel Mera from the Dominican Republic and Dr. John Dransfield.  I’ve probably left out at least one person but I can’t, at the moment, remember whom. Oh, yes! Paul Craft was there. He said that he’s the current president of The Society but I don’t believe him.

I hope, if it’s needed,  that someone else reports on the discussions of the two days of the meeting because my tinnitus prevented my understanding about half of what was said, even by those who were near me. (Most people don’t enunciate enough for a tinnitus victim and, alas, hearing aides don’t really help as the impaired person hears just about everything, but speech is usually jumbled.)

But I can report on the activities that comprised most of the second day of the meeting, the latter adjourning before noon and the participants then doing a walking tour of Montgomery. This was when the real fun for me started because Larry Noblick, John Dransfield and Scott Zona would comment on most everything we saw. I had witnessed this before but had almost forgotten what a joy it is to see and hear (all three projected and enunciated sufficiently due to being outdoors) Dr. Noblick literally jumping into the air in his excitement while talking about Syagrus cearensis, S. botryophora and other South American palm species. John Dransfield (aka Alec Guiness in botanical drag) discoursed on the Arenga species we encountered and Scott Zona talked about the Nypa clumps and Coccothrinax species, of which the garden has quite a few.

After the walk at MBC we all piled into “the buses” (actually SUVs and vans that Brother Craft and Faith Bishock were driving) and went to Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden which is only about a mile and a half from MBC.  I have never been to the great tropical botanic gardens in the rest of the world, like those in Singapore, Queensland, Java, Hawaii, etc. but, if they are better than Fairchild, they are truly extraordinary. After more than three decades of visiting it, after one of the worst hurricanes in U.S. history, after budget cuts and after a few midguided and unfortunate decisions by one or two directors, it is still my favorite place. A description of what’s there would require (and has) a large book.

From Fairchild we bussed to Pinecrest Gardens which used to be called “Parrot Jungle.” In case you never visited PJ it was more of a garden than a bird show. It is another place I first visited in 1995 and immediately fell in love with. To my mind it is even better now that the constantly squawking parrots and the children screaming and running from one bird cage to another are gone. We were accompanied by the chief horticulturist of the garden, Craig Morell, who is a natural for this sort of thing: all his accounts of the history of the garden and his descriptions of the plants and topography  more than liberally sprinkled with near-salesman type humor. When I talked to him face to face, I was quite impressed with his botanical knowledge. The garden has, among other features, the most beautiful banyan tree (Ficus benghalensis) I know of in all of Florida. Its beauty is enhanced because of the way the “jungle people” pruned the subsidiary trunks of this great tree over the years, so that stone paths, tables and chairs can coexist among these columns and one can wander around among them. The banyan at the Thomas Edison estate in Ft. Myers is considerably larger but is not accessible in the wonderful way that this one is and you can’t get a perspective on the size of the Edison Ficus because of the space limitations around it. In addition to the banyan at Pinecrest there is a giant Raphia and an even larger Corypha umbraculifera, along with a quite nicely designed desert/succulent garden on a hill overlooking a wonderfully landscaped (Phoenix roebelenii, Caryota, gingers, heliconias, et al.) pond with pink flamingos. This cactus garden is where John DeMott, his wife, and son had prepared a barbecue dinner for the IPS attendees. It was a very nice finale to a great—an almost operatic—day of  palms and pipples. And, yes; I got to know a number of these from around the world, with some of whom I now regularly correspond.

===============================================================

Late June brought the anouncement from Dr. Noblick that Professor John Dowe of Queensland, Australia was to present two lectures at MBC in mid July, one being on the genus Livistona, on which Dr. Dowe is the world’s foremost expert.

 As it turned out, I had inextricable personal conflicts that prevented my attendance and I was truly devastated, and suffered a great sense of loss at having to miss meeting a person who means very much to me.  Mike Dahme had set up several years ago the email contact with Dowe when I was in the throes of writing the text for the encyclopedia that Paul Craft and I published, and the contact turned out to be one of the most enjoyable and informative experiences of my life!  So maybe you can imagine the excitement and joy I felt when I next contacted Larry to thank him for the original notice (he knew how much I wanted to hear/meet Dr. Dowe) and learned from him that John was still at MBC and would there remain for another week!  I asked if it might be possible … YES!

The meeting occurred  the afternoon of July 21; but before it did I had the unexpected pleasure of encountering the new director of MBC, one M. Patrick Griffith. We had a brief but most interesting chat about our both having studied Botany at the University of Texas at Austin when Billy Lee Turner was the head of the department there.  This amazed me as it was in the late 60s when I, myself and moi were in attendance at UxT, and Dr. Griffith looks young enough to be my son!  I suppose the really “amazing” point here is that old codgers like Dr. Turner and myself are still walking around on the face of the planet, terrorizing students, botanical gardens and copy editors.

John Dowe is a soft-spoken and distinguished looking man whose passion for plants and especially palms is conveyed by his face and the gleam in his eyes when talking about them.  From a personal viewpoint I thought him an exceptionally courteous person. I’ve already mentioned the tinnitus problem I have. Only once did I need mention it to Dr. John; unlike many people I’ve encountered, he remembered throughout the rather long conversation to enunciate and face me when speaking.

The exchange with him and Dr. Noblick lasted for about three hours and at one point included young Jody Haynes, cycad biologist (and also an expert on palms) at MBC, whose office adjoins Dr. Noblick’s. Jody popped in when he heard us talking about the genus Sabal and as I was telling them about the arborescent S. minor specimens south of New Orleans and in the “Big Thicket” of eastern Texas. Completely enthralling was Dr. Dowe’s account of New Caledonian and New Guinean palm species and his statement that the only palmate-leaved species in New Caledonia should be named “Livistoniopsis” rather than “Pritchardiopsis” as it is so much more closely related to the livistonas of Australia than it is to the pritchardias of the Pacific Islands; I heretofore didn’t know that New Caledonia was once a part of the Aussie continent. We also talked about Eucalyptus species, Livistona species, Brazil, Syagrus species, Billy Lee Turner and his groundbreaking (at the time) methods of “chemical phylogenetics” vs. molecular taxonomy, and various palm book authors in Australia, New Zealand, England, and the U.S.

I’ve never enjoyed a discussion more in my life and I believe all three of us wanted to prolong it and probably would have except for dinner appointments we had at separate locations and with separate persons. Even at that we were all late because the chat didn’t stop after leaving Dr. Noblick’s office but lingered, like the declining sun, as we strolled to our infernal combustion devices with animated talk about arengas, caryotas and talipot palms.

Yes, it was a truly wonderful summer afternoon that I will remember and cherish for the rest of my life, just as I will the fact that one of the world’s greatest botanical gardens, Montgomery itself, is in the early summer of its life and only gets better each year.

[bgl]

Diane,

Fascinating and delightful! Thank you!

Bo-Göran

[Diane Kirkland]

Diane,

Fascinating and delightful! Thank you!

Bo-Göran

You're welcome.  I hope the people who made that visit such fun see their names.  He met and talked with a lot of people whose names he either didn't know or didn't remember.  The whole trip was a joy.  

On every trip to Fairchild, he'd drop into the bookstore and sign all of his books on the shelf.  He surprised one or two employees a couple times who didn't know who he was or what he was doing.  He got a kick out of that too.

[Zac in NC]

Thank you for sharing those Diane. "Infernal Combustion Devices" is priceless.

Zac

[Diane Kirkland]

This photo goes with A Montgomery Summer a little higher in the thread.  RLR would email photos to me and we'd go through them together on the phone, so I often don't have labels for them.

Paul Craft said that's John Dowe on the left and Larry Noblick on the right.  

Photo by Robert Lee Riffle.

[IPSPTAdmin]

Dr. Noblick and RLR in conversation.

(photo by Mike Burnett)

[Diane Kirkland]

Fun, Mike!  Wouldn't you like to be a fly on that wall!

[Zac in NC]

Yeah that would be an interesting conversation to be a part of, I know I would have been thrilled.

Zac

[Alan_Tampa]

More please...

I must admit that for whatever reason when reading these posts with the memory of that sad August day still fresh that these posts invoked some rather unwelcome emotions.  Now, that some time has passed I now read each RLR anecdote and unedited prose (yes - botanical poetry) with a sense of nostalgia and far less melancholy.

Thank you greatly for this eulogy.

Alan

[Diane Kirkland]

Alan, thank you and the others who are enjoying hearing the stories that I take pleasure in telling.  

We are all so lucky we can open those two wonderful books and read Robert Lee Riffle again whenever we want to.  A lot of RLR is in his books; the prose is often very subjective and rarely detached.  

When The Tropical Look came out, I was very aggressive about getting it reviewed by every paper and magazine I could think of and then I eagerly read the reviews.  

One review I missed but he told me about noted Bob's predilection for saying of many palms, "...and is even more beautiful when planted in groups of three individuals of varying heights...."  

The reviewer called this Riffle's "Huey, Dewey and Louie approach to landscape design."

We laughed about that for years -- as recently as a few months ago.  

And that recommendation is going to live on in A Pocket Guide to Palms.

More stories coming!  

D.

[BS Man about Palms]

You know, for some reason I find it kinda strange, but I have to realise not everyone into palms frequents this board or forum.  I was talking to someone fairly "learned" in Palms in this area today and he mentioned something about the "Encyc. of Cultiv". book today and I pointed out that RLR had passed away earlier this month and he was very suprised.

Just a note to others out there, maybe Jeff and Ryan at your sale, not all your customers may know...

Diane- How are you doin

[Gaston in Argentina]

Oh no! I didnt know it to now.- I was full of work and didnt entered to the forum.-The friend RLR!! i have hear nice and funny stories from him as a greath human been and gardeneer.- Richard T with a smile in the face talked much about his friend Bob, and a friend of a friend is a friend.-

One of the persons that i should be knew personaly, scheduled for visit when travel to USA someday.-

Certainly a SAD new,  how if would be a relative.-I will miss his emails, his posts in the forum, the best forum moderator.-

Mis sinceras condolencias a su familia.-

Gracias Robert Lee Riffle!,  you are in the best remember of this guy here who never will for get you.-

From Cordoba city, Argentina.-

Gaston Torres Vera

[Diane Kirkland]

Diane- How are you doin  

Bill, thank you for asking.  I'm sitting here trying to think of an honest and accurate answer.  

I still laugh out loud every day; sometimes (okay, often) through tears.  I have some really ugly lows that don't last too long and while they're happening I remind myself that they won't last.  

The part I miss the most is how much we enjoyed talking to each other.  We usually hung up because we had to live our lives or because one of us was finally falling asleep.  

While I was lucky enough to have all these conversations with Bob, there were many other people he loved deeply and also considered close/best friends.  I know that they are feeling the same as I am.  

Bob was equally delighted by a good thread here, new and beautiful pictures, young and curious minds or a phone call from me.  His passions and friendships were strong and dynamic.  He was a big man and there was enough of him to go around.

I guess I'm doing a little better and a little worse than I expected.

[Diane Kirkland]

RLR:  Empathy, Sympathy

Over the six years in Fort Pierce FL, RLR’s lawn was his nemesis.  He couldn’t find anyone reliable to show up and mow and more than anything (well, not more than more palms), he wanted to take it out and put in paths and groundcovers.  

Finally, about a year ago, his neighbor (Jean Smith) told him about another neighbor with a landscape business.  Wayne showed up regularly, he could work around Bob’s upside-down body clock, and he didn’t hurt the palms or run over the hose.  As with anyone in Bob’s life, they liked each other.

Recently, Wayne’s gifted son was accepted at Duke University at the age of 15.  His mother didn’t want him to be so far from home, so instead their son was attending a local community college at age 16.  

Only recently, just a couple of months ago, on his way home the son was killed when his car hit a puddle of water on the freeway.  The whole neighborhood was devastated and Bob couldn’t talk about it without his voice breaking.  

He wanted to do something; the tradition in his area was to give money instead of flowers, being practical.  So Bob got a copy of The Tropical Look, inscribed it with a memory and dedication to Wayne’s son and enclosed a check for $300.  

I was surprised at the amount, because I knew it wasn’t that easy for him.  He said he wanted to give Wayne something that could be used any way he wanted, but particularly hoped it would be something for the surviving daughters.  

He later told me that Wayne had been seen running down the street with family and friends trying to catch up to him.  He was probably trying to outrun the pain that I can only begin to imagine.  

Friends and family came to maintain the lawn for awhile.  Then just a few weeks ago, Bob told me Wayne was back.  He went outside and put his arm across Wayne’s shoulders and asked him how he was doing.  Wayne broke up but talked for quite awhile about his son and finally regained his composure and went back to work.  

When Bob came into the house, he had two phone messages from neighbors telling him that Wayne would be back and not to say anything about his son.  

I had a chuckle over this.  Bob never shrank from anything.  He was glad he asked, and he knew Wayne was glad to have a chance to talk.  

How right he was.

[Diane Kirkland]

RLR on Cleaning:

There is a small school nearby, Northwest University, where the Seahawks have their headquarters.  I hire students, usually 2 so I have at least 1 when needed, to help me around the house and garden a few hours a week.

One, Michelle, comes once a week to clean part of the house while I clean the other.  

Bob would always ask in the mornings, "How many people do you have working there today?"  On Wednesdays, I would always say, "Michelle's here cleaning."  

Bob's last response to this was, "AGAIN??  WHEN will she be DONE???"

[Diane Kirkland]

Apparently sometime in February, Bob Riffle decided to buy me a gift – something I either truly needed or wanted.  I had no idea about this and was, he told me later, a very difficult subject.  I don’t even remember his asking me questions; he thought I knew what he was after and was being a tease.

Another good friend of mine (George Little), also from Houston but now living in the Seattle area had friends in common with RLR in Houston even though George and Bob had never met.  I didn’t know until after his death that George and Mike Burnett were friends; I did know that Bob’s friend, Alton Marshall, was a friend of George’s.

So on April 15 as I headed to Bainbridge Island for a birthday dinner party for George, I wasn’t surprised when Bob said he wanted to talk to him.  George Little and his partner David Lewis are artists and Bob liked their work.  He’d spoken to George over the years.  

However, the confusion of a dinner party for 16 beginning in George’s house and continuing in David’s house next door provided no opportunity for the phone call.  

I called Bob from the ferry dock later on the way home as I always did and finally in exasperation he told me he’d been trying to find out for over 2 months what he could give me that would be special.  He’d decided to commission something from George and David for my garden and wanted to talk to George about what it would be.  

But that night, he asked me – if I could have anything George and David made, what would I choose.  Without hesitation, I said “A sphere.”  I love their spheres – they’re sort of like a perfectly round dinosaur egg partially cracked open and a vessel for water.  The next day, Bob called and commissioned the sphere for me, leaving the size and the color details to me.  

For the briefest of moments, no longer than one or two seconds, a thought ran across my mind that the sphere would be here when my friend was not.  

George and David had a lot of work ahead of mine, although I did get quite a cut into the line and in late July it was ready.  It was 30 inches in diameter and because it’s concrete with rebar, weighs over 200 pounds.  We got it into the back of the car, but I had trouble coordinating getting enough of the strong young men, (including my nephew) who sometimes help me out, to my garden at the same time to lift it out of the car into the garden.  

Finally we had a two-hour window, my nephew and a friend got the sphere into the garden without mishap.  I’d dug several of the plants that had encroached on the saved space to make room to place the sphere where I could sit next to it and look in to the darkness or to see the sky reflected.  

It was a hot day; my nephew (who at 20 is falling in love with palms and tropicals and who chatted online with RLR beginning at age 6) asked if he could help replant the plants around the sphere.  But this was something I wanted to do myself.  I knew how I wanted the plants and it was tricky because the temps were in the 80s; not a great time to transplant.

Finally, at 3:30 p.m. on Thursday, August 10, 2006, I called RLR and got his voice mail.  The message I left was, “We have SPHERE in the garden!  It’s beautiful, thank you so much; I love you so much.”  

I don’t believe the message was heard; it wasn’t answered.  For weeks I have been so sad about that.  But the sphere in my garden is a memorial to Robert Lee Riffle, and I decided today that we shouldn’t see our own memorials.  

He saw the finished work – I took pictures of it from every angle before it was installed – from near and far.  He knew the joy he gave me and heard the happiness in my voice.  He listened to my plans of where to put it so I could see it from the kitchen, from the deck, from the living room through the dining room windows.  And then he heard the revisions that included a small pedestal in the future, because I’d forgotten how tall the cannas get in front of the windows and how big the brugmansias on the deck.  

And when I walk past, I float a flower blossom in the sphere; when I put a particularly beautiful ‘Canary Bird’ abutilon blossom, I heard that deep voice in my head teasing…”Weedy thang!!”

“And a youth said, Speak to us of Friendship.

“And he answered saying:

Your friend is your needs answered,

He is your field which you sow with love

 and reap with thanksgiving.

And he is your board and your fireside.

For you come to him with your hunger,

 and you seek him for peace.

“When your friend speaks his mind you

fear not the “nay” in your own mind, nor do you

withhold the “ay.”

“And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart; For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.

“When you part from your friend, you grieve not; For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.

“And let your best be for your friend.  If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.  For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to Kill?  Seek him always with hours to live.  

“For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.

“And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.  For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.”

-- Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

[Jana]

The sphere is beautiful Diane.  Bob mentioned he was getting one for you and promised to send me a picture.  In the same breath he complained of the massive quantities of emails he was getting of late and I can still hear the clattering of his keyboard in the background.  I never did get a picture of the sphere... until now.  Thank you.  It's beautiful.

[Dypsisdean]

Diane,

Your sphere, as well as your thoughts and stories, are beautiful. I continue to enjoy each and every one.

[bgl]

Diane,

Beautiful photos and beautiful memories. And that's quite a sphere! Thank you!

Bo-Göran

[BS Man about Palms]

Diane,

You continue to bring a tear to my eye for a man I never met. Thank You

While I think it is right that one not see their own memorial as you said, I think Bob would sprained his back falling off the swooning sofa to see what you have done with his gift. A truly fitting memorial.

Bill

[Diane Kirkland]

Thank you Jana, Dean, Bo-Göran and Bill (Bill you made me laugh out loud!).  

Bill,  it had only been a couple of weeks since I'd sent Bob a load of digital images and they always included my bananas.  He knew where the sphere would be placed.  He saw the progress of my little garden.  And I mean little...

The cannas on the left are in a planter box below (and in front of -- the leaves are backlit from the south by the sun) a bay window on the dining room and a mere 5 or 6 feet behind the Musa basjoo is a short fence and a neighborhood sidewalk.  Kirkland is right on Lake Washington, and a lot of people walk around the city.  I'm a little less than a mile from the lake but high enough on the hill not to get much advantage from the water in the winters.

The short fence along the sidewalk is because in the mid-80s when I built the house, I grew veggies and "woses" in that sunny part of my garden.  When I started to put the fence around the property, the neighbors objected because they had so much fun watching the garden.  So I made the sidewalk side low enough to look over.

Then I got "Riffled" and started experimenting with big-leaved plants that looked tropical, but it was difficult because they had to be purchased in 3-inch pots most of the time.  I can't tell you how many palms my friends and I lost to harsh winters.  Even now, my 3 palms are in pots.  The World's-Slowest-Growing-Butia is finally tall enough that it wouldn't be dwarfed by the sedums growing around it if I put it in the ground.  I bought it from a friend at her nursery at a discount and it was still about $80 in a 3-gallon pot.  

What really grows is my Tetrapanax -- here's a little guy keeping an eye on me the same night I took the sphere pictures:

[ania]

Lovely stories, Diane. Keep them coming.

Anna

[Zac in NC]

Thanks for sharing that with us Diane. It is a nice sphere and the garden is beautiful.

Zac

[MediaHound]

I'd like to add my condolences as well.

rest, rest..

[Diane Kirkland]

Make New Friends, But Keep the Old...

In the 13 years I’ve been on the Internet, so many good people have crossed the path of my life and left a mark that I long ago ceased to keep track of the coincidences and the forced turns to new and better directions.  I know I’ve had the same effect on other lives, too.

When Robert Lee Riffle and I crossed paths, he had recently lost his best friend.  Many of our first conversations were his talking about his grief (and my listening) without either of us realizing that our friendship, though different, would be as precious as the one he lost.  

In all the hours we talked, we described the important people in our lives to the point that we were on a first-name basis with each other’s old friends, here and gone.  

A few years ago, I decided to search for one of those old friends on the Internet – her name is Candace, Candy.  She worked with me in my early 20s.  We were a terrible twosome and got in all kinds of fun trouble together.  We stayed friends for a long time, even after she moved to California.  Then we drifted apart – phone calls were expensive, email wasn’t yet available to us.  So after 20 years apart, I found her.

I found her right after her mother had died.  Although we didn’t discuss the grief she was going through so much, just the contact was helpful to her.  It was fun catching up.  Imagine standing with a good friend and being able to fast forward 20 years to see what happened and where you wound up.

I told her all about Bob Riffle, she read his book (The Tropical Look), and he enjoyed hearing about our online reunion.  

My connection to this old friend, who also knows the details of my life, has helped me feel less disconnected, since I no longer have Riffle just a phone call away.  There are so many things you can tell good friends that you don’t tell family!  :>    

So today, my old friend Candy – without realizing that it was just 4 weeks ago today that Bob had died – sent me a poem that really touched my heart.  

Picture:

(follows the poem)

Yesterday I had a huge flush of brugmansia blooms and sent the photo to all of my friends, because normally I would have shared it with RLR, giving him full credit for my being surrounded by the most tropical look I can conjure up in the upper left corner of the map.  

Earlier in this thread, I posted pictures of the sphere from RLR.  This is a photo of where I was standing when I took the sphere picture.  In the bottom right corner you can (barely) see a hardy opuntia (species forgotten), and the umbrella is on a picnic table of my deck.  In this picture, I am standing at the gate by the sidewalk going past my garden.  

Testament

By Anne Morrow Lindbergh

But how can I live without you? - she cried.

I left all the world to you when I died:

Beauty of earth and air and sea;

Leap of a swallow or a tree;

Kiss of rain and wind's embrace;

Passion of storm and winter's face;

Touch of feather, flower and stone;

Chiseled line of branch or bone;

Flight of stars, night's caravan;

Song of crickets - and of man -

All these I put in my testament,

All these I bequeathed to you when I went.

But how can I see them without your eyes

Or touch them without your hand?

How can I hear them without your ear,

Without your heart, understand?

These too, these too

I leave to you!

[FlamingoFever]

Diane, you continue to keep Bob's spirit alive through your beautiful prose, enchanted gardens, the sharing of your memories and the perfect poetry you've been quoting.  

Your sphere story got me crying all over again, if only we could move back the hands of time. Maybe Bob did receive your last phone message to him, I keep thinking he did, but never got the chance to call you back. I know your voice must have been in his final thoughts.  If only he could have seen the pictures of his beautiful gift to you.

I too have been marking the weeks since he has been gone and my own jungle paradise feels like a shrine to his memory.

[Diane Kirkland]

Thank you Jarred, Zac, Anna and Cassandra.  

I've been thinking about the women in RLR's life -- there were a lot of us; our ages covered a wide range, maybe 55 years from about 35 to 85 or 90.  

I used to tease him about how many close female friends he had but I never had to ask him why he liked a particular one.  He would casually offer that information unsolicited and it changed from time to time as the friendships evolved.  

The women he liked didn't necessarily have a trait in common, it was more what they lacked.  He liked honesty and steered clear of a mean streak or jealousy or maliciousness.  HOWEVER, he could get quite a kick out of an accurate observation that the person observed might not have liked hearing.  :>

Sometime this weekend, I'll tell a little story about his entertaining a friend from Houston in Fort Pierce.  It's a fun one.

D.

[DoomsDave]

(bgl @ Aug. 26 2006,00:00)

QUOTE

Dave,

I have no intention of attempting to speak for Diane, but I do speak for someone (=myself!!) who has thoroughly enjoyed all of Diane's memories and thoughts about Bob (and everone else's as well!). Needless to say, we all deal with the loss of someone in different ways, which is exactly why I believe it's important not to impose our own desires or feelings on others. If someone has a hard time reading the posts in this thread, then don't read them! I also happen to believe that when we lose someone close to us, it's very healthy to bring up all sorts of memories, happy and maybe otherwise. You say "let this wound heal". Well, my guess is that people let "wounds heal" in different ways. Personally, I can't think of a better tribute to Bob than if this thread were to be kept alive for a LONG time.

Bo-Göran

I agree, on all points.

Dave