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Grandma’s Rose

June 17, 2015

As some of you may have heard, my grandmother passed away on March 25, 2015, at 96 years young. Still full of obstinance and vigor to the very end, I can only hope that she left this world knowing just how big of an influence she was in my life … and the lives of my brother and cousins.

When she passed, my aunt asked, “How is the world supposed to keep spinning on its axis without her in our lives?”

The statement, of course, was a joke.

The world continues.

The sun sets on each day.

The moon rises.

The seasons change.

But for our family, the universe is a bit darker without her fierce independence, stubbornness, drive, intelligence, staunch opinions and … well … her belief that she needed to be around to keep things running. If anyone ever wondered where I learned my obstinance, sarcasm, and intense irritation of the dim of wit, you had to look no further than my grandmother.

Really, my grandmother taught us all a lot. She was a firm believer that actions were far more powerful than intentions could ever be. She insisted that if you wanted something, you should work hard for it rather than ask for it. And she stressed that people should try to improve themselves every single day.

She suffered no fools.

She put up with no crap.

And she never, ever allowed us to speak a sentence in her presence without correcting our grammar, if need be.

Thankfully, my friends understood and appreciated the gifts she gave me over the years.

When my friends first heard that she had passed, I received nothing but an outpouring of love. And within just a few short days, I also received a large box on my front porch. The box contained — to my surprise — a bare-root rose from wonderful friends of mine in Los Angeles. They told me that the rose was in memory of my grandmother. A constant reminder of all she taught me.

Of course, the rose was perfect, for — other than my stubbornness and sarcasm — the biggest gift grandma bestowed upon me was a love of gardening. Specifically, the careful cultivation of roses.

Thankfully, my mother and step-father came over and helped me plant the Princess Anne rose because I had never handled a bare-root plant before, and wanted to make sure I wasn’t about to kill it.

This week, the first buds blossomed. The fragrance fills the air around my front door, and I can’t help but think of my beautiful, stubborn grandmother every time I see the delicate pink blooms.

GR 01

GR 02

GR 03

Thank you, Jim and Justin. I love the rose, and I know that my grandmother would love it, as well.

Grandma 01

From → Random Beauty

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