Roses
Saturday, March 1st, 2008
This made me stop and think. And nearly cry. There’s more at postsecret.
Every year, a single rose from this pink rose bush would bloom white. My grandpa thought it was really special; he and I would wait for it every year. He died nine years ago. The white bloom still comes, but now it’s just like any other flower.
My grandad died nine years ago too, and he also loved his garden. Maybe all grandads love their garden.
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