The Love of the Rose

Happy Mother's Day from China! Because of the time change, we're among the first to celebrate today, and at precisely 9:00am, the doorbell rang and twelve beautiful roses appeared as if by magic. They're from my amazing husband, of course, who, no matter where we are in the world, somehow always manages to mark special days with the most beautiful flowers!

Roses, red and white in particular, are among my very favorite flowers for so many reasons. I carried white roses at our wedding, signifying devotion, but also because they evoke boundless romance and never-ending joy. With their classic elegance and timeless beauty, roses seem to transcend time, stretching across gender and generation. There's a warmth and strength in a rose that, for me, sets it apart from its fellow flowers. It's a perfect gift from nature, and everything in its shape and bloom says "I Love You" - more importantly, the swirling movement of the petals says "I'm in love with you" and the endlessly coiling blooms offer an unspoken promise that love will be everlasting.

Looking at this picture, so much of this rose reminds me of my own Mom this Mother's Day and speaks to the things about her that I remember and cherish most:

-- Delicate petals, fragile and fragrant, coiling around a strong and stable center;
-- A vibrant and cheerful exterior, often curled up in laughter, protecting a shy and quiet interior;
-- Tiny wrinkles, stretching across aging outer layers, speaking of wisdom and experience, yet still unable to deter an inner core blooming with youth and renewal;
-- Slight mars and imperfections, hidden in the superficial splendor, whispering a quiet testament to our own vulnerability, reminding us that we're all uniquely human;
-- Traces of sparkling glitter sprinkled throughout, evoking memories of bygone celebrations and happy gatherings, all the highlights of a happy and joy-filled life;
-- And finally, tiny teardrops, seldom seen on the outside, mostly hidden within, managing to find a way out and now sitting bravely in plain view.

The most wonderful thing about the rose in this picture is that it forms the backdrop for the tiny white baby's breath happily dancing among the petals. If the rose is my Mom, beautiful and steady, then the baby's breath would be my sister and me, years ago, springing up in its midst, eager to catch the sunlight and be on our way, yet somehow understanding, despite our youthful impatience, the role the rose plays.

You see, the baby's breath would never be even the slightest bit beautiful if it weren't for the rose, and no matter how determined those small white flowers may be to dance off into the light, there is the unspoken, yet undeniable knowledge that they would never shine so brightly, nor thrive so confidently, nor impact so precisely, if it weren't for the beauty, the splendor, the patience, and the love of the rose.