My Mother’s Yellow Roses


*Please bear with me during the next couple of days as I dedicate a few older posts to the memory of my mother.  She passed away four years ago on November 20, 2010. Originally posted 11/8/2013

There they were.  Three yellow roses blooming high atop the bush of frosted leaves.  The morning sunlight had just come over the horizon to frame its own picture of them before I grabbed my camera phone to do the same.

They are “My Mother’s Yellow Roses,” of course.  All her life, the yellow rose was her favorite flower.  Five years ago when I moved into this house I planted the yellow rose-bush as a way to keep her close to me.  We lived far from each other, able to visit only once or twice a year.  Yet, whenever I sat on my patio, her spirit seemed to surround me. The scent of the yellow roses, their edges dipped in painted pink, brought us together.

My glance at the lemon colored rose petals always remind me of my mother.  Particularly this morning.  Perhaps it is the contrast of the glistening, white frost blanketing the hill in the background.  How it sparkles in the sun like fairy dust, covering the grasses and all of the blades of green around it.  The flowers I so prized in rainbow colors decorating my patio have withered.  They hang, crumpled over rainbow pots.  Their lives have ended for the year, a sign of cooling weather.  Changing seasons are upon us with winter coming soon.

My mother is on my mind this month.  She passed away three years ago in November of 2010.  I was packing to board a flight to see her in Arizona.   Packing  three years ago on this very day.  It was not her time yet, but I knew….she  would be lost to me, soon.  She lived with several chronic conditions.  The worst of which was, COPD.  Eventually, it led to lung cancer, choking the life from her.

The yellow roses I planted to keep me close to my mother are hanging on as if to send me a message this morning.  In spite of the frost that snuffed the life from the flowers around them, they are still here to say, “Hello.”  They have not withered or left their source of life.  They send me love from my mother above, and me right back to her.  I predict they may prevail for a few days more, or even longer.  Like life in general, no one but God knows for sure.  Until that day comes, I glance out the window at every opportunity to see my mother’s yellow roses.  There, I  whisper a silent message full of love to her above.

“I miss you, Mom.”

My Mother's Yellow Roses Growing Amongst The Frost Surrounding Them

 

43 thoughts on “My Mother’s Yellow Roses

  1. God bless her, I too had a death this March of my uncle, I was very close to him, you can say my surrugate father. Plus unfortunately I do have quite some experiences with loosing close people to me, so I can understand you. It´s a nice ode to your mother.

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  2. I have a number of tools that I can’t use without thinking of my father. Sharing these memories is a nice tribute to the loved ones we’ve lost. I’m sorry for your loss and I enjoyed reading this.

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    • Thank you, Dan. “Tools.” I can picture you thinking of your dear father while using such tools. How he must love that! My own father did the same, thinking of my grandfather while using some of his tools. Thank you for bringing me that lovely memory. 🙂

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      • I actually have a couple of tools that belonged to my paternal grandfather. I never knew him, but the sense that I am connecting through time is genuine when I use those tools.

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  3. Beautiful tribute to your Mom. I know she is keeping those yellow roses safe for at least a while longer. My Mom passed over 40 years ago, I was only 29, it seems like yesterday. She is always around me, just like your Mom is always around you. She must have been a great Mom. :o)

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  4. thinking of someone and then being treated to the scent of something we associate with them is very comforting isn’t it. Having the roses close and still flowering in spite of the weather is great. If the roses die back now as they probably will, you’ll have the Christmas season to remember her and then the promise of Spring to come to see her close by.
    xxx Massive Hugs xxx

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    • Wonderful sentiments from you, David, as always. Christmas is a difficult time…her favorite holiday. But, with spring ‘her’ roses will bloom again, with that familiar sweet aroma. Much to look forward to. Thank you, David.

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    • Oh, I’m so sorry for your recent losses, Patricia. Great courage and strength it must take to get through such a difficult period. Thank God, for time to lessen our pain while refreshing great memories within our hearts. Blessings of love to you, Patricia.

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  5. Enjoyed reading darling daughter’s reminiscences of her mother’s yellow roses….the love rose symbolizes in many hues straddles all frontiers and your post communicates it so evocatively as to enable my visualizing the affection and bonding between you and your mother from far away Mumbai….best wishes…raj .

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