The Bedside Rose

My Hubbers and I have long since moved past the days where I get flowers for, what I term, Hallmark holidays.  Valentines Day, Mothers Day, even anniversaries, are not times when I want to receive flowers.  I like gifts of flowers to be a surprise, not an obligation. Some days he'll walk in the house with a surprise bouquet.  Those I love. 

We have always had roses in our yard.  I love roses. Ever since I can remember, when the roses start blooming in the spring, my Hubbers will get a small vase from our cabinet and put it on my bedside table.  During the growing season he keeps that vase filled with fresh roses, sometimes one perfect bloom, other times a small bouquet.  He never says anything, I will walk into the bedroom at night and there will be a new rose. He used to work in a florist shop and has a tool that takes the thorns off the stems so he takes the time to do that. I love these roses.  The time and thought he devotes to doing this means the world to me.

When our daughter lived at home he would keep a vase by her bed, too. He took care of his two girls.

We have our youngest granddaughter almost every Friday night. A few weeks ago she walked in my room and noticed I had a new rose.  She said "Nana, how come I don't have one?" I told her Papa and he immediately went out and cut her one.  A new tradition has begun.  This Friday morning he went out to the garden and cut and trimmed two roses; pink for me, red for her.

She had to smell hers a few times before she climbed into bed! Generation Three is now being spoiled.