A while ago, I saw a posting where a woman showed off her lovely roses that had dried up, no longer bright and cheerful, blushing with new color. They were aged and beautiful in their own right.
The leaves and the purple flowers have held their colors, the roses are fading into an antiqued look. These are my birthday flowers from my son–two weeks old And to me, they are as pretty as ever, in an antiqued kind of way.
My parents are long gone, but like the flowers they sent to me when my daughter was born, they live on forever. My father didn’t give my mother bouquets of flowers. They didn’t last long for the money spent on them, she’d say. But these are well over two decades old and have made moves twice, and yet, they still are beautiful, a special gift I will treasure always. Love is everlasting.
Terry
“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”
