catching up some more

Today when I got out of the car at my house after a dental appointment, I smelled the scent of roses before I even saw them.  These beauties have been in my gardens as long as we've lived here and every year I am delighted by their effort to not only please the eye, but also the beautiful smell they produce.

It doesn't seem to matter to them how much effort I make to keep them healthy and blooming.  Roses are one of the easiest plants to grow, once they are established and as long as they don't freeze.  But even if they freeze, they convert to the wild rose stock they were grafted onto and cover themselves with countless, smaller but equally delightful blossoms. 

Earlier this year, after my mom joined us, I was out in the gardens one day and I thought about roses.  How very little effort they require to provide so much enjoyment.  They have so many good qualities--their lovely blossoms, their unparalleled scent, how easy they are to grow and enjoy.  But I also remembered the one thing about roses I don't love.  The pruning.  I don't like pruning because roses, for all of their good qualities, also have thorns.  I cannot prune them or even get very close to them without coming away a little scratched and even bleeding.  So incredible yet so prickly.

I realized as I pondered roses and gardening and the changes in my life at that time, that my mom is like a rose.  She has so many good qualities.  So many traits I admire and love.  Just like my roses.  And like my roses, my mom can be prickly sometimes.  Sometimes she only pokes or scratches a bit, but sometimes it feels like she is drawing blood.  Just like my roses.  And also like my roses, she isn't prickly on purpose--no, it is simply a part of who she is, just like all of her good qualities are parts of who she is.

These wandering thoughts in my mind were a gift, a blessing that has helped me remember the gift and blessing of having my mom living with us.  I never thought for a second that my gardens could help me adjust and willingly accept this gift.  But they have.  I love my roses even more now.