Six Years Since the Wreck

Its six years today since the wreck. My parents were driving to see the wild yellow orchids that were blooming in a Revolutionary War cemetary. They had been instrumental in saving this stand of rare orchids. It was 7:45 on a Sunday morning, and they were hit by a drunk driver. The drunk had been celebrating his 18th birthday & was blind drunk, coming out of the woods to the right of my parents car. My father was killed. My mother nearly was. Just before the moment of impact she pulled her legs up in front of her to protect her internal organs. And so she survived, but broke nearly everything else.
I was very close to my father & miss him terribly. We had to wait a year to have a memorial that my mother could attend. It was at the cemetary with the wild yellow orchids, and we scatterred my father's ashes. Well, everyone else scattered them. I hid under a big fir tree and drew a heart with his ashes. At the memorial I recited Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle in to That Good Night". He liked that poem, and I had memorized it in case he ever wanted to hear it.
My father wrote wonderful letters full of wry humor and awful handwriting & spelling. I have never thrown out a letter from him. There weren't many. After he died I saw a file of letters and cards I'd sent him over the years.
My father was the president of the Connecticut Botanical Society for 10 years. They loved him. Then he was the president of the local chapter of the historical society at the Hart House. He was the town botanist in Old Saybrook, Connecticut. People enjoyed his talks. He was a good looking man in his 80's. I did a Google search for him and there was no mention of him. How could that be? Maybe me writing this in my blog will begin to redress that lack. A teensy bit. Lord, I miss him.
Donald M. Swan July 11th, 1919--August 4th 2002