Winter - "The Lone Rose" Winter- ‘The Lone Rose’
Copyright 2012 by Toni A. McGuire
Published by Lady Toni
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Winter – ‘The Lone Rose’
The lone rose sits on the now withered and brown stem. A single scarlet rose in the dismal and small yard. How with the coming on of winter can this one last scene of summer’s gaiety still linger? This one blood red rose puts me in the mind of you; my beloved, dear one who planted this bush in the spring twenty-five years ago. A time when we thought that nothing could hurt us and we would always live happily together in our small home, our fortress against a cruel and often cold world.
The place that our boy learned to walk and talk; and going back further still, the place we first loved one another, where we said the vows that bound us together until death could only separate us. Only deaths cold grasp could take us away from each other as its grip pulled you from me. You fought long and hard but your illness never relented and all too quickly you were gone from me and all that is left are memories.
Why am I left to deal with your death? Why do friends say stupid things in hopes of consoling? Nothing will make this right and now I don’t want to feel better I want to sit and look at your rose and remember you on that spring day when you first planted that rose cutting. You wanted to plant others, one a year, but life happened and instead of the bower of roses we only have our one bush. This year it missed you, you couldn’t tend to it as in past years. I didn’t want to get to near it as I don’t have a good way with plants, I don’t have your loving touch the plants and I now miss that.
Today is the day after we placed you in the earth. I thought that yesterday was the hardest day I ever had to go through, a part of my life is gone and will never be back. I have memories of you; raising our family, good times and not so good times all of those come rushing back to me. There weren’t too many bad times but I miss anytime with you.
I’m here tending your rose bush and missing you. That one red rose still on there even after frost has claimed every other plant in our yard, my yard...the yard. That rose has some of your spirit; it will not it give up but keep hanging on to bring some joy to me when I see it and think of you. While I look at it I feel that you are with me, standing beside me and holding me close like you did that day twenty-five years ago when you planted it and wanted me to see what you had done. You were so thrilled like a kid in a candy store.
This rose is your gift to me, I see that now. You always wanted me to have something to remember you by, you always figured that you would go first and I’d be left behind. My love; the hurt is less out here, in this place; where I feel closer to you. Funny but while you lived nothing could not get me to come into our yard without protest; but here I stand in your “bower”. The last rose of the year my gift from you that all will go on.
Right now I hurt like I never knew a person could hurt but if the rose is to be believed I will grow and re-learn how to do things alone. Living without you has been hard but I will get through this, I’ve seen others live after their loves have died but it takes time, not the instant healing that so many people would like to believe happens. I know that I will never forget you, but there will come a day when remembering you will not hurt like a fresh wound with salt poured on it the “helpful words” of people who mean well and hope their empty words will help. In time I will remember our love and our joys.
Here comes our boy one of our joys and holding his hand is his boy. They do wonders for me and I can see you when I look at their faces. I used to be concerned with seeing me in him, but now I look and see you at his age, when we thought we had the entire world and all kinds of time to be together. My boy, who came to me with hurts as a young boy is now who I lean on with my hurt that he comes close to but in some ways I am alone in.
I see the hurt and pain in his eyes as he comes closer to give me a hug and we gaze at your rose. The only rose in the garden left un-withered by the frost; this one last scene of summer’s gaiety still lingers showering us with your love from Heaven’s distant shore. For Heaven is where you surely are, dancing with the angles and keeping watch over us, your family those left behind who loved you best.
We better go in now; winter is here and it is cold. Farewell rose of winter, I will always have my loves rose.
CoffeeHouse
Sari comes everyday to the same coffee house, sometimes she writes and sometimes she plays her music, this is her summer escape what is waiting for her during the three months of school vacation?
I am Sari and I’ve come here every day since school got out; this is my escape from my house. It’s not easy being a 16 year old girl who isn’t all about boys and then having a younger sister who can’t stay home because she is always on a date with some boy. Here at the coffee house I can write stories or play my music once a week if I choose. I sit here with my laptop and write of the perfect world where a bookish nerd like me gets the guy. My sister swears that I’d get dates if I would only act more interested but I believe that I won’t have to change who I am to meet that perfect guy, the guy who will like me for who I am my love of music and writing and quirky clothing.
I find my usual spot to be open, I order my black currant smoothie at the counter and have seat, and the girl behind the counter will bring my drink to me when it is ready. I’m in my usual flowing tie-died caftan with matching head scarf. My dark brown hair is kept out of my way by numerous twists and my head scarf. I’ve recently started writing a new story and I quickly fall into a trance as I write. I look up as Sophie brings me my smoothie, but wait it isn’t Sophie but someone new. I saw him when I ordered; he was standing in his brand new apron looking as if he was learning the ropes from Sophie. His name tag says Dan. I say thank you to this boy/man standing before me and he shyly says “You’re welcome,” he smiles and then hurries back behind the counter.
I am Sari and I’ve come here every day since school got out; this is my escape from my house. It’s not easy being a 16 year old girl who isn’t all about boys and then having a younger sister who can’t stay home because she is always on a date with some boy. Here at the coffee house I can write stories or play my music once a week if I choose. I sit here with my laptop and write of the perfect world where a bookish nerd like me gets the guy. My sister swears that I’d get dates if I would only act more interested but I believe that I won’t have to change who I am to meet that perfect guy, the guy who will like me for who I am my love of music and writing and quirky clothing.
I find my usual spot to be open, I order my black currant smoothie at the counter and have seat, and the girl behind the counter will bring my drink to me when it is ready. I’m in my usual flowing tie-died caftan with matching head scarf. My dark brown hair is kept out of my way by numerous twists and my head scarf. I’ve recently started writing a new story and I quickly fall into a trance as I write. I look up as Sophie brings me my smoothie, but wait it isn’t Sophie but someone new. I saw him when I ordered; he was standing in his brand new apron looking as if he was learning the ropes from Sophie. His name tag says Dan. I say thank you to this boy/man standing before me and he shyly says “You’re welcome,” he smiles and then hurries back behind the counter.