Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 61 Comments

Thank you Roses

Roses, roses, roses. Thank you for roses.

Beautiful, resilient and a bit of fight about them.

A flower than can melt the heart and then draw blood.

England has even had civil wars over a white and red rose.

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I’ve always felt a strong link to roses. That’s not surprising since I come from the White Rose County. Yet the link is stronger than that.

The last present I gave to my partner was a rose. Since then that delicate white rose has been intrinsically linked with my grief journey.

We have another rose which is decades old and has come from my partners childhood home. So it’s a link with Hawklads past. Family members now gone.

I also often look at a rose and see symbols of life. Today I was looking at a rose and it made me think of friendship. Some of the rose buds seem to go on forever. If you are lucky in life you may find one of those friendships that do that, always special, always beautiful, everlasting. Yet you also see rose buds that fail to bloom. How many times have I had thought that I had found a great friendship yet for whatever reason things never seemed to take off. Then you come across those roses which burst into life, producing the most stunning flowers, yet within days they have died back and faded. Just like those friendships which seem like they will be the best ever and yet suddenly they end – wonderful but not ever lasting, so short lived. You just never know with roses and you just never know with friends.

Today it was friends but on another day I will see roses symbolising another part of my life. I’ve done it with grief, parenting and hope. What will the Rose show me tomorrow?

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 79 Comments

Hope

A mass of pink.

Thankfully every year this happens.

This rose is clearly very old. It’s been here for nearly 20 years. Before that it was at Hawklads grannies house in Thornton le Dale for several years. And before that it was blooming in K’s childhood home. So it’s well travelled and clearly very old. It provides a symbol of hope to me. A beacon. We all need these in whatever form. I am so lucky to have a number of these sources of hope. Some are close by like this one which is next to my bedroom wall and some are much further away. Regardless of the distance and location, they are special to me. So I care for them and yes worry for them. In terms of the plants, we did have a few more of these symbolic plants but slowly the Yorkshire winters and living on an exposed hill have taken their toll. Now we are down just to three of these well travelled old plants. Yes the numbers are dropping each year but the hope they represent still shines so brightly. Each winter I hope and pray that they make it through the rough months. So yes, I am always thankful for another year of those treasured flowers.

Over time I have lost things which are special to me. Things change and that is life. But if I open my eyes and heart then new beauty will enter my life. Hope is renewed and flourishes again. That’s why it still can be a wonderful life.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 65 Comments

Tomorrow’s Rose

A few hours ago talked about a Yorkshire White Rose which has a connection with my partner. I said that it would become even more beautiful. Well here’s the proof.

This little bush produces the most stunning roses. The sadness is my partner never really got to see them. But they are such a beautiful tribute to her. That’s such a nice thought.

Take care everyone and remember to live. It’s can still be a wonderful life.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 73 Comments

Bouncing

Blue sky… That was a few days back. These roses are about 14 feet high. Yes the hedge needs some attention when the birds finally fledge. So how do I take a photo of high up roses. Being one half inch above average height rather limits my reaching capacity. Can’t use the ladders. They are loaned out to someone for a few days. That was just before a pesky pandemic broke out. So might see them again in 2021. So what to do.

I tried standing on a plastic garden chair. Even on my tippy toes, no where near high enough.

I then tried to rig up a DIY selfie stick. The long pole window washer makes a surprisingly fine temporary solution. And yes it did generate enough height. One Tinnie Winnie technical problem. Once the mobile phone is 14ft high, how do you press the record button. Get another pole! Yes I actually considered this for a few moments. Didn’t really think this one through.

I even dug out Son’s toy drone with its onboard camera. A brilliant solution let down by one thing. We both can’t fly it. I carefully positioned the drone below the rose. All I had to do was gently lift the drone off the ground. Get to the right height, hover it for a second while I pressed the camera button. That was the plan. Unfortunately my gentle liftoff was more akin to a NASA rocket launch. Within seconds the drone had screamed over the roof of the house and was heading towards the road. Thankfully when the drone did come down on the street it had not hit anyone. I bet the landing was as graceful as a Dodo jumping off a cliff.

So time for Plan X.

Thankfully the trampoline is kinda close by. So yes I’m not proud. I bounced and tried to take a photo on the way up. The photo above was the best one out of an understandably out of focus bad bunch. But given the effort, yes it was kinda worth it. Although I particularly liked this effort.

I can hear the cries. You only had one job, take a photo of the roses. Probably best not become a wedding photographer just yet.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 80 Comments

Battered Rose

This rose bush was here when we first moved in. So it’s at least 18 years old. Given the state of it even then, I suspect it’s been here much, much longer. The changes it has seen over those years. Some good, some bad, some happy, some sad. It’s in a really annoying place. Right next to the front door. Constant pruning required to stop your arms and legs getting lacerated just trying to get into your own home. I dread to think how many times it’s been smashed and broken by washing machine and furniture deliveries. It’s regularly attacked by the local wildlife and pets. So yes it’s had a challenging life.

Yes it’s a tad battered. The roses are never perfect these days. Always a little worn at the edges. The foliage is getting a little thin in places. But it’s still here. Just like we are. I can’t speak for you but in my case I am so like this bush. A bit old. The body has taken one too many hits. Definitely battered and a little frayed round the edges. You could even argue that I’m starting to take root. But currently I am still here. Still trying to live. I will give thanks for that.