Over time have you ever watched anything grow; perhaps a plant, tree or even a weed? Today I would like to share something with you. In the process we call life, each of us has different ways of trying to understand it. Please allow me share a little of mine with you.
I see my life as a rose garden. It, as among roses, has been seasonal with many beautiful roses in its past. It seems, with each passing year, each season has brought a wonderful variety of new roses. Of course as they grew and multiplied; so did the thorns.
There was a point in my past, when one looked at me, they were witness to this beautiful rose garden with all of its wonder. Of this, the one thing I have cultured, is the very clear understanding that a beautiful rose garden is difficult to preserve. Within its beauty lies much hidden risk. Without regular and unfailing maintenance the risk turns into danger and becomes painfully devastating - thus sooner or later the patch has to be cut back.
As roses change with the seasons - so has my life. My rose garden became overwhelmed with thorns, the splendor turned into pain. It was so thick one could not bear to walk through it - not even myself.
My past two years have been very cold and dark and my rose garden is now simply a faded memory. As I have spent countless nights thinking through every sentiment imaginable, wondering how this could of happened to me, I had to make the difficult decision to cut back my garden and start over.
As I started cutting I realized that trying to recover the brittle, dried out stems of my historical garden was not going to work. Salvage was not an option. I had to reluctantly fixate on uprooting each stem and plant a new one to replace it.
When you are devoted to something and are so acclimated to having it in your existence it is sometimes easier said than done to see it go away. I now identify with the fact that nothing is permanent especially without the enduring due care and attention it deserves and so requires.
As I started the process of planting my new garden I had a vision of how I wanted it to look, how I wanted it to be different than the last one. I still have that image. I have started planting fresh bulbs and have been watering them carefully every day. I suppose by now you are wondering why this letter?
Well, I want you to know that my first rose of the new season has blossomed. It is magnificent! Words cannot describe how it makes me feel and how much I am devoted to maintaining my new garden from the ground up.
Every new rose that grows will get the cultivation and attention it deserves and so requires. I will always remember my first one! It sets the course for the rest to follow. With this - I attribute my first rose to you. You have blossomed the first occasion that has made me realize I can, am and will recover.
Of course the thorns will always be a part of my garden yet, I know, with every painful sting - it reminds me to be more careful. It has been a long time coming since I have been this happy and excited about anything and I will ever more carry the memory of you - as the first striking rose that broke through the parched, hardened soil and blossomed the beginning of the rest of my life.
Copyright © 2001 Fenwick How