Theodora volunteered at her local hospital for most of her adult life, lending her kind eyes and warm spirit to the weary. At home, she created a garden of quiet abundance. Crocuses springing up after the harsh winter, then hyacinths, daffodils, forsythia, tulips, lilies, wisteria, roses, iris, peonies, dahlias, zinnias . . . peas, carrots, lettuce, radishes, beans, tomatoes, gooseberries. . . . I can see, smell, taste them even now.
So vivid is her son’s recollection that he wanted to extend his mother’s quiet gifts by planting a garden in her memory - right here in the heart of the city - for everyone to enter. Inclusion, David said at the dedication of Theodora park this week, defined her. Inclusion. Integrity. Compassion. And a sense of humor. What a set of words to wear in this life.