A Rose is Still A Rose

Easter just passed a couple of days ago and I always think about my grandparents during the holidays especially. We used to celebrate Easter  and all the holidays with them. They have been gone, died, for about 12 and 13 years now. But, I still miss them.

Earlier today on my daily walk to the store. I walked on the other side of the street just because and on the other side of the street I was thinking of my grandmother. It had rained yesterday and the day before and the ground was wet and the sidewalks had little puddles in some places and the plants, some of them still had raindrops on the leaves. My grandmother loved flowers and plants and always had a garden. Before we moved from her house I was in the backyard which had been overgrown with weeds in some places and in other places some wild flowers grew among the weeds. And near the driveway in the far part of the yard there were lots of leaves and a couple of trees. I would imagine how it used to look before she got too sick to garden anymore and I would do my best on some days to weed out the weeds while my then 2 yr old would run around the yard happily playing and riding his trike. Most of our weekend days were spent back there and right before sunset we would go out there to watch the sunset behind the trees.

Sometimes on some days I will see something that will remind me of my grandmother. Sometimes it is something small or large or some kind of food or something that someone will say that will remind me of her. Today on the other side of the street there is a bush. This bush is covered with roses, mini roses. I don't know the proper name for them all I know is that they are small and grow on a bush and that they hang on the bush when they are at the end of the growth stage. So, I was passing by the bush while the dog from the house next door was barking his head off behind the fence. And I felt like a cool breeze out of nowhere on my shoulder. I stopped and took a picture of the roses. I just felt that I had to.