Roses and Life

White long-stemmed roses remind me of Linda.

My oldest sister Linda died two years ago today. Last week I bought long-stemmed white roses that reminded me of her. They were her favorite flower. The roses quickly bloomed then faded away, petals barely clinging to stem.

On Monday I bought white spray roses to replace the long-stemmed ones. Already in full bloom they will quickly fade away and drop petal by petal onto the table. A rose’s life cycle is a short one, especially after it is cut away from the mother plant. As I sit and stare at their beauty I wonder if the unusually quick life cycle of bud to bloom to fade is trying to teach me something.

Linda had suggested sweetheart roses like these for my senior prom corsage.

What do you think? Is a rose’s life cycle like that of a person? Do we burst into being as a bud, then morph into full bloom, only to fade quickly from the scene? I mean, Linda was like quicksilver as a teen and twenty-something, then she morphed into a wife and mother, and succumbed to a heart attack as her children became young adults. Her daughter is married and about to become a mother herself. Her son is single and anxiously awaiting his niece or nephew.

Will my great-niece or -nephew bear a resemblance to Linda as a child?

Was I close to my sister for most of her life? No. That was my other sister, Cindy. I was an admirer from afar. Do I miss my sister Linda? Yes. She was a touchstone of my life. Do I wish I could bring her back for some more time with us? Yes. I’d love to hear her throaty laugh one more time.

Beautiful inside and out.

Angels. My sister is one of them now.

Three dried roses from her funeral sit where I see them every day.


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