Back to the Garden (Letters to Pops)

This time of year- in years past- is usually one that I’m really excited about. It’s Lent, the anticipation of Easter- a time of newness and beginnings and starting over… but ever since my grandpa passed away almost three years ago around this time of year, it’s been a tough season to get through. Interestingly, there’s been several things lately that remind me of my late grandfather Tom (Pops).

The other night, I had a drink that had fresh lavender in it- as soon as I smelled it, I was transported back to my grandparents house in OKC. Back to the garden my grandpa kept. Smell is such a powerful sense; I had to turn my head away because I immediately had tears in my eyes. And while I’m not ashamed to cry at all, especially almost three years later- it’s the unexpectedness of when the memories pop up and smack me in the face that makes me sad. It always reminds me, I need to write, I need to get these things down on paper and in writing so I don’t ever lose these memories.

I know it’s been a while so here goes.

I’ve been at a work conference, the past couple of days at Quartz Mountain State Park- away from the city lights, away from the city. It’s incredible how insignificant you feel when you look up at the stars & how the memories come flooding back…

Probably the first thing I noticed was that the place we ate at in El Reno on our way to the conference, a tiny family owned Mexican restaurant, was only about a block from my aunt’s family store.

Our family has a long history with El Reno. When my grandparents moved from Kansas to OK, they ended up in El Reno- Pops was the warden at the prison there for several years- he retired a couple years before his grandchildren were born.

My mom and dad got married in the church there and had their reception in the backyard of my grandparents’ home.

My aunt and uncle lived in El Reno for years and my aunt’s family store has been there for 100 years!

As we passed Roman Nose State Park and we were all swapping stories; I remember Pops taking my cousin Matthew and my brother Cole out there to camp and fish and just spend time together; it’s crazy how the most ordinary things become the sweetest memories…

We had a keynote speaker at our award banquet last evening and I swear I saw my grandfather staring right at me. His mannerisms, the lilt of his speech, and just his overall presence- I about cried. If you knew him at all, especially at the church or the height of his career as a federal prison warden, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

One of the last classes as the conference was ending this morning, was on mental health issues in our field. It was hard to listen and pay attention mainly because if you haven’t been through the experience of someone close to you or your family having gone through a degenerative brain disease such as Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, Lewy Body Dementia, and others; you truly can’t know the depth and breadth of the mental, physical and emotional toll it takes on everyone involved. However, I certainly appreciate the fact that people are open to talking about/ having open conversations about these diseases, among many others. Without conversation and advocates we won’t find cures.

All this to say: hold your loved ones close, tell them often how much you love and appreciate them, and find some way to preserve your memories in each season, whether good or bad, sad or happy. It’s worth it.