A memory of roses

When I first met Richard, he was living in a tiny bachelor house.  It was quite ordinary, but the property had two exceptional features: an enormous back yard, and a magnificent collection of beautiful roses he had chosen specifically for scent.  They ringed the house in lovingly tended beds.

One late afternoon, we sat on the patio with wine and words, when we noticed dark clouds and felt the wind rising.  Richard said, “we have to get the roses in because the storm will ruin them”

We raced against the storm, cutting only the roses in full bloom, which would surely be shattered by wind and hard rain.  I went inside, opening every cupboard in search of containers, filling them with water.  I soon  ran through his collection of vases, and lowered my standards to anything tall enough to hold water and roses.

Richard came in as the rain began to fall, his arms filled with color and scent, and we quickly got the roses into water.  Then we went around the tiny house, placing rose-filled containers on every flat surface.

Then came the greatest reward of all our hurry.  The house filled with the scent of them.

I think that is when I fell in love with him.image



8 thoughts on “A memory of roses

  1. YES! I can certainly believe you….or any sensitive person would fall for a guy in that circumstance!! What a lovely memory.
    Today is the one year mark of loosing my Tom. I’m remembering about the third day after we met….seeing one another every day…..he bought us ice cream cones. Carrying them to the car, he bit off the curl on one, and handed it to me…to my surprise! It was such an “intimate” thing to do. For forty three years, I’ve never got an ice cream cone that had a curl on it….or a G&T that he didn’t “taste” it for me first, right before handing it to me!

    You and Richard just keep loving and enjoying one another…….❤️

  2. I know you don’t know me, so maybe it doesn’t matter much, but I. Love. This. Story. Sweet, unexpected, beautiful. And it left me with the most wonderful warm and hopeful feelings. Thank you and richest of blessings for your beautiful love story.

  3. I second Amy’s words exactly. I admire the richness of the moment, small though it is, and your subtle and beautiful rendering of it. Your love of Richard permeates through the piece like a scent. And it fills your readers’ minds with the vivid color of a memory that is not even ours for a moment.

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