Monday, September 19, 2005

Daddy's Roses

(roses pictured are from a Postcard distributed in 1909)

Off and on for several years I have attempted to write an analogy that bedevils my mind, repeatedly prodding and insinutating itself into my thoughts. Its many versions have been bad poetry and lackluster prose. I am not sure where the writing piece stands at the moment; but this is its most recent incarnation. I had this work in mind when I named this blog.

My Father Grew Beautiful Roses
My father grew beautiful roses.
He provided the richest soil
-- full of nutrients known to best foster the growth of roses. He studied to learn exactly what the roses needed.
Carefully he tended and guarded the baby plants
-- they must have sun yet be protected from the searing noonday heat.
--their thirst must be quenched, but too much water would drown them.
--choking weeds must be expunged lest they steal the nutrients and moisture from the soil and hinder the growth of the roses.
He watched with love and pride as the flowers bloomed.
--when damaging winds and storms threatened, he still protected the full-grown plants and blooms.
His roses grew. Each was plucked, in the fullness of its own time, in order to fulfill its destiny.
I am grateful to be one of Daddy's Roses.


Carol said...

That's beautiful, Joanie. Following the metaphor, now you'll have to decide what color/variety of rose each of us is.

Jane said...

That is such a beautiful picture. It describes your daddy so wonderfully.

Lyn said...

Beautiful, Mom. What a colorful and vivid analogy!

Ruth said...

Joanie...How beautiful!! The piece about Daddy's roses brought tears to my eyes. Thanks for helping me set up a BLOG (or more acurately setting it up for me!)
Love and prayers, Mother<><

Janice said...

I'm sitting here crying at the beautiful imagery and the powerful emotions that your piece evoked. We are so blessed to be daddy's roses; and I am so blessed to have a sister who can write so beautifully and powerfully.

Love you,


lilsis said...

I always think of tulips in association with Daddy - maybe he had moved to tulips by the time I came along.

But that's beside the point... it's a beautiful analogy and expresses the care he took with each of us.

As you know, Daddy never half-did anything. I remember helping him weed an ENORMOUS tulip garden in the yard of one house in which we lived, and asking him why he took such care with planting tulips at every house we lived - when he knew we wouldn't live there more than a year or two. I asked him why he bothered with it at all.

He told me that we should leave every place we are more beautiful for us having been there. He also said he liked the idea of leaving a little piece of himself wherever he had been.

He certainly succeeded. Not only with his roses/tulips, but with the lives he touched while he was on the earth.

I still love tulips and plant them myself.