Frank has given us Rose as our theme this week.
My paternal grandfather loved roses and after he died, his widow’s son ripped them all out. I never went back after that, it was too painful.
Dad liked roses too, and grew a lilac rose in his front garden, giving cuttings to the family for their own. He gave me a red standard for my first house, but it was vandalised, the culprits taking the entire head of the plant, not leaving so much as a shoot for regrowth.
Moving here, boating friends gave us an Ancient Mariner and another couple a red rose in a Loving Memory range when my Mum died last January. We bought the yellow Peace, and had success with all of them last year. I have never seen such large blooms.
Roses to us are a symbol of love.
We put two single red roses on my Dad’s casket, 2 on my father in law’s, and four (2 from us and 2 from Bro in NZ) in with Mum when I said my final goodbye last February.
The bushes look a little sad and forlorn at the moment, but hopefully will flourish again in the Summer. I’ll be ready with my camera anyway.