Monday, May 13, 2013

Grandmother's Rose

Many years ago, my grandfather kept a most beautiful yard.  It was always impeccably kempt and always was full of blooming flowers.  I never remember it not having tons of flowers in bloom!  I always loved to walk around his place and admire the colors and shapes of the blossoms.  He would walk with me and point out different flowers or plants.  He would not let me focus just on the showy flowers but we would also study all aspects of the plant.  Was the stem woody?  Did it have thorns?  Was there any milky sap leaking from a recent wound?  Did the blossom smell?  How many petals were on the flower?  Everything was a lesson and Granddaddy made sure that I learned that lesson.   I did not mind this in the least since I was truly interested!  One thing that impressed me was that no matter how hard Granddaddy worked in his gardens, he never claimed that these were his plants.  The flowers belonged to Grandmother.  Other than occasionally picking a bouquet, I never saw her work in the flower beds.  Still, these were Grandmother's flowers!  It was a matter of love.  My grandparents had that sort of "fairy-tale love" that is depicted in the movies.  If it made Grandmother happy then Granddaddy was happy.



On the west end of their house, he built a large trellis.  Within just a short time, the trellis was covered with a beautiful rose.  Each year the rose bush would bloom profusely and he would announce that "Grandmother's rose is blooming!"  This rose is an antique rose known as "New Dawn"  It has nice size roses that appeared almost white.  On closer inspection, the rose proved to be a gorgeous pink!  Grandmother would don her gloves, pick up her basket and snips to pick a large bouquet.  Usually, Granddaddy would tote the basket for her.  Sometime he would cut the roses to keep her from being stabbed by the thorns.  And, always, he would tell her how lovely "her" rose was doing!  She would smile sweetly at him and say "Thank you, Mr. Joe."  (I never figured out just why she would call him "Brother Joe" but when she did, you could just feel the love flowing through those words.  



Today, the fairy-tale love..in the form of the New Dawn rose..continues to grow in my garden.  Most of my other rose bushes have died.  This one, however, flourishes!  Since my rose grows from a cutting of "Grandmother's Rose", do you suppose the love grows through it?  Can such a thing be handed down from generation to generation?  I like to think so!  I like to think that my grandparent's love surges through the stalks of the rose even today!  Now that is a nice happy thought for today!

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