Posted by: Nancy | December 26, 2011

The Thanksgiving Rose

It was a moment of utter romance.

A little droopy, but still bright: The Thanksgiving Rose

It was Thanksgiving morning, I’m preparing for the big meal — following my lists, turkey in oven, dressing assembled, veggies chopped, Beth peeling potatoes, etc.  Tom has been outside, cleaning up the back yard, and he comes running in.

He’s found the last rose. It’s tiny and perfect, a vibrant pink. He hurried in to show me the miracle, and offer it as a gift knowing how I would love it.

I can’t believe that our poor pitiful struggling rose bushes have produced this. What a beautiful affirmation — still alive!

The rose held the position of prominence in my kitchen window; now that it’s dried, it’s still there. Not yet faded, a symbol and in some ways a nudge about not assuming time is gone before it really is.

You see, I’d been speculating privately that this would likely be among the last times I’d get to see my family for Thanksgiving. My sister’s debilitation was increasing so much, it would be impossible for these visits to continue.

The rose (and my beautiful husband) reminded me not to grieve in advance, but to celebrate what we have now, while we have it. Even if difficult, it’s worth having the moment and truly experiencing it for what it is.

Never wish time to hurry.

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