By
December 10th, almost everyone had learned of our tragedy. Tear-stained faces mirrored my own as I opened the door, welcoming well wishers bearing food, flowers, and open arms for hugs, trying the best they
knew how to assist the living in dealing with the dead.
They
had the same questions I had. How could Roma be gone? He was Roma! Roma was
invincible. Roma always landed on his feet. God met him around every corner. God was
still using Roma. How was it possible that Roma had slipped away from our sight,
this time permanently? None of it made
sense. Not without God. And what kind of God allowed this to happen? Did I
believe what I had always professed to believe about God? Was He still good? Could He be trusted?
Three
days after Roma departed, we suddenly had temperatures reaching 70 degrees. In
Maryland. The sunny weather helped my mood. In addition to friends pouring
their love out on us, the sun and warmth
were another balm for my broken heart.
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| See the tiny pink rose? |
I
was standing out in the yard talking to the flower delivery woman for the
second time that day. As I turned to go back inside, something drew my
attention to the far side of the yard. I
walked over to get a closer look. At first it looked like scrap of pink tissue
stuck on a thorn on our knockout rose bushes. A closer look revealed that it
was a pink rose. It wasn't a perfect rose. It looked as if it had bloomed
quickly a few days earlier, with only a few malformed petals. I cut it and put
it in a bud vase on the table where all the other florist flowers were
displayed. The next day, I noticed two more pink buds. Throughout the week they
kept budding. In December. In Maryland.
A
pink rose. I had only recently become aware of my apparent obsession with pink roses, when a
first-time house guest remarked, "You really love your pink
roses."
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| Sunroom love seat |
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| My dishes |
Hmm.
As I started to observe, I was a little self conscious of my decoration
choices. As an artist, I like to think I have good taste that often runs toward
eclectic. I love what I love. But had I overdone the roses? They are eye-candy for me. They had "sprouted" so gradually over
the years I hardly notice that they now had overgrown the garden, if such a
thing is possible. They were on my dishes. My salt and pepper shaker were pink
rose buds. In the sunroom beside the kitchen, pink roses covered the upholstery on
the love seat, the hook rug on the floor, plates hanging on the wall. A bench,
a chest and even the woven wood roman shades that hung on my windows, I had
painted pink roses. And ceramic and dried pink roses were here and there. On
the sheets where my friend slept, the towels hanging in her room.
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| painted tray |
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| Pin bought in Russia, 2002 |
Wow, I had overdone the pink roses. In every
direction I turned, I could see a pink rose. They had sprouted in my closet, in
my jewelry box, in my cabinets, on the walls, on the furniture. You get the
idea. My house had become a virtual pink rose garden.
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| Trunk top detail, painted in 1984 |
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| needlepoint pillow |
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| rug |
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| treasured antique dust-catcher |
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| clock face |
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| Yes, those are salt and pepper shakers. |
I could go on for pages, but I won't.
I couldn't help thinking of Roma's wish to buy me flowers for my birthday, twelve days earlier. Now, I had pink roses blooming in December, in Maryland. For a week, I checked daily, finding new and more perfect pink buds every day.
True,
it had suddenly become unseasonably warm, so I guess skeptics could argue that roses
blooming in Maryland in December was possible. But skeptics would be hard
pressed to explain one thing. My precious little pink roses were blooming on my
red rose bush.
It
was easy for me to imagine the JOY in Heaven as God, with Roma in close
pursuit, gave me gifts of love, beauty for ashes.
This a rose blooming on the same bush today, May 21, 2016. I would have never planted red rose bushes. The builder did. I would have planted pink ones, of course. But then I would never have been so joyful when pink roses started blooming after Roma made his untimely departure in December. He didn't forget me. I was overwhelmed with extravagant LOVE!
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| Pink in the background are rhododendron. |
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