03/24/2026
I really got into planting last summer when my father’s health was getting worse. It was a good distraction, and I grew especially fond of my sunflowers.
Recently, in preparation of celebration of life, I tried to think of a plant that Dad really liked. I remember him being into apple trees and cherry trees, something that likely reminded him of his childhood in Eastern Washington. I don’t know if he ever really cared about flowers?
When I got the call that Dad had 48 hours to live, Emily and I were in Moab for a friend’s wedding. My Dad would have loved all the western landscapes. All along the way to and from, I saw wild sunflowers. As we passed by Salt Lake on our return trip, I thought a lot about how two weeks after my birth, my Dad was driving my family to Oregon from Oklahoma, and we were at that time driving a span of road that he had to have taken. Seeing the distant relatives of the sunflowers that grew in the ditches when he came through, I wonder if my dad took notice of their great-grandparents?
I’m certain that my family passed by fields and fields of sunflowers from Oklahoma to Oregon on that journey.
So these packets of sunflowers are my way of sharing some joy in my Dad’s name and reflection. I sprinkled in a few of the things he loved. I wanted to create something that reminded me of my father, who, like a sunflower, was born in the spring and faded away in the fall.
