The Sweetest Flower in the Garden
This month marks the 6th anniversary of the
death of my sweet wife, Diane. I would
like to share with you the eulogy I wrote and delivered on February 1,
2011.
“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or
crying of pain, for the old things of this world have passed away…Behold, I
make all things new again.”
Revelations: 21 4-5
Mary Diane Rogers was born on June 29, 1943, in Corpus
Christi, Texas. They were living there at
the time because her father, Bill, was working at the Naval Shipyards during
World War II. As soon as the war ended
the young family moved back to their home in El Paso. Although Diane was not born here, she was an
El Pasoan. She was raised down on Alameda
and attended school at Ascarate and later graduated from Ysleta High
School. Her mother, Mary, taught at
Ascarate and Bill retired as an airplane mechanic for El Paso Natural Gas. They were “lower valley” through and
through. Being “lower valley” was a way
of life. She made friends whom she has
kept her entire life. She was an only
child, but had many brothers and sisters.
She grew up here at Grace Methodist Church.
After graduating from the “reservation” she began college at
Texas Western. She became a proud Chi
Omega and worked with that organization well into her adult life. Destiny stepped in and in the middle of her
sophomore year she transferred to West Texas State up in Canyon, Texas. She came over to the theatre department and
all of us guys perked up when we saw this cute El Paso chick come strolling
into the green room. We were doing “The
Music Man” as the spring musical that semester and Diane and I were both in the
chorus. The director told all of us to
form family units and choose a couple of the community kids who were there to
play the children of River City. I broke
my neck getting across the stage to ask her to be my wife. She agreed, we got a couple of kids and rest
is history. We did several shows
together including playing Colonel Pickering and Mrs. Higgins in “My Fair Lady”
the next year. I proposed to her on June
19th, 1964, and in November we married and the adventure began.
Anne Taylor Fleming wrote, “A long marriage is two people
trying to dance a duet and two solos at the same time.” That pretty well sums up our marriage. Our duet was a joy to behold and we allowed
each other our solos. The solos always
blended together eventually to become a beautiful waltz. A friend told me recently that it appeared
that we were always on our honeymoon.
A French actress, Simone Signoret, said, “Chains do not bind
a marriage together. It is threads,
hundreds of tiny threads which sew people together throughout the years.” The threads that have created the tapestry of
our married life are multicolored and varied.
Diane and I have shared great adventures, crushing sorrow, sheer joy,
defeat and victory, great curiosity and contentment with one another. We would occasionally get on each other’s
nerves, but we were always best friends.
We were silly and we were sad.
We reveled in our adventures. We have been stranded on the River Kwai in
Thailand, sailed on the ferry between Kowloon and Hong Kong, rode an elephant
with Sebastian Cabot, traveled with the Bob Hope Christmas show, saw the
jungles of Belize and the coffee plantations of Jamaica, saw Betty Grable and
Ginger Rogers do “Hello, Dolly” on Broadway and many other exciting adventures.
We mourned the death of our first child and supported one
another through the death of our parents.
Diane’s mom and my father died on the same day in 1975. We have cried over the loss of friends and
other family members. In other words, we
have had a full and emotionally charged life and have been so fortunate in in
so many ways.
When I married Diane I married into a wonderful family. I love them all as much as they love my sweet
Diane. My sister, Katy, and her husband,
Terry, have helped so much down this long road.
Our friends have been our rocks.
We have been so blessed in that department. We love you all.
Our daughters are our greatest joy. Melissa was born in Bangkok on the day Neil
Armstrong walked on the moon and sweet Pamela burst onto the scene the day
before my 30th birthday.
Growing up they were never boring, kept us exasperated and always made
us feel like the most blessed of all parents.
We have wept hearing Melissa sing the Verdi Requiem with the Utah
Symphony and perform with Pavarotti. We
have marveled at Pam’s pure soprano voice singing “Suor Angelica” and becoming
the marvelous teacher that she is today because she is passing on her love of
music to the children she touches. They
both possess great talent, but their greatest talent is their selflessness and
kindness. Our son-in-law, Darryl, is our
son. We love him dearly.
As our married life continued a quotation from an unknown
author fit us perfectly. “Newlyweds
become oldyweds, and oldyweds are the reasons that families work.”
I always called Diane “the sweetest flower in the
garden.” Henry Beecher wrote in 1858,
“Flowers are the sweetest things God ever made, and forgot to put a soul
into.” My sweetest flower in the garden
has a soul and that soul is now growing in heavenly soil.
In the musical version of “Candide” we hear this…
You’ve been a fool
And so have
I.
But come
and be my wife
And let
us try
before
we die
to make
some sense of life.
We’re
neither pure, nor wise nor good.
We’ll do
the best we know.
We’ll
build our house and chop our wood
and make
our garden grow…
and make
our garden grow.
Let
dreamers dream
what
worlds they please.
Those Edens can’t be
found,
The
sweetest flowers,
the
fairest trees
Are
grown in solid ground.
You are all special to us and we thank you for being
our friends. God bless you all.
I can think of no better way to finish than these words sung
by the baker to his wife in the musical, “Into The Woods.”
It takes two.
I
thought one was enough.
It’s not
true.
It takes
two of us.
You came
through
when the
journey was rough.
It took
you.
It took
two of us.
I love you, my sweetest flower in the garden. Bloom where you are planted and I’ll see you
again one day.
Ronnie Parks, February 1,
2011
