When the Lavender Roses Bloom
Lavender roses make me think of my grandmother on my father’s side of the family. I have no real rationale for this, they just do.
Maybe it’s because their beauty is out of the ordinary. All roses are beautiful but there is just something about the lavender ones. My grandmother was like that, she had her own kind of beauty.
Of my little handful of happy childhood memories, times with her make up most of them. When she came to visit she magically always had a deck of Old Maid cards in the pocket of her house dress and even more magically, she seemed to always have time to play that game with me. If I asked, she had time to read to me too. She was so very dear and so very special.
Just like the lavender roses, she was different from the other people in my life and a different beauty in my garden of memories.