Friday, September 6, 2019
I’d like to share some thoughts to bring comfort to Frank’s family and many friends.
Like many, I got to know Frank by taking his gardening class for almost 10 years before I moved to WA state 2 years ago. I hope he was aware what a restorative haven (as well as garden instruction) he provided. It was a joy to climb up the hill on a dark cold night to the lighted greenhouse, like a version of “Cheers” with Frank behind the bar/desk.
Frank showed his caring, kind nature in so many ways. There was the holiday wreath-making, and Sundays when family members could participate. He organized watering during the week so that the gardeners would be successful. There was the incident when the oil furnace broke down (belching thick sooty smoke throughout) and he was in right away hosing down the plants and getting heaters, then calling in the “troops” to help clean the greenhouse. My husband appreciated being able to participate in the work and the fun. Herman worked for NYU, and liked to surprise Frank with NYU memorabilia in honor of his niece Jessica's accomplishments.
Frank’s voice will always be in my head. A favorite was: “We use SOIL, not DIRT! Dirt is what is under carpets.” Gardeners strengthen their bonds through sharing plants. I have a yellow oleander which made the journey to my new home in a U-haul, and good-bye gifts of an orchid and agapanthus that I carried on the plane. The agapanthus bloomed for the first time in August- I’d like to think maybe it is the essence of Frank checking in on me and my garden.
