I think that this rose in my backyard is the most beautiful rose in the world .
You see, it came from a little house on this street in Fort Worth, Texas. This address has belonged to the same man for over 50 years.
Four little boys were brought up in this house. They grew up and left home for college, jobs, and experiences that life had to offer.
As the boys scattered their lives across the U.S. grandbabies were had. But many, many Summers found this little house full of love and laughter when they all returned to visit. The man that built this house and tended the double lot loved spending his time "puttering". His yard was the envy of the neighborhood. I spent many hours in this yard by his side.
This is the house today - sitting empty for over a year. It will be sold with in the next 45 days. My Grandfather would have a fit if he had the eyesight to see it today. His yard was his pride and joy. It is now a barren shell of it's former glory.
This is the man today - a little like his house. The same man to me that he has always been. Probably a little too high on that pedestal that I placed him on. None the less, he means the world to me and my heart hurts to see him like this.
This is the rosebush on it's way to it's new home in Colorado. It had the entire back of the Jeep to itself. A Thule cargo coffin for the roof had to be bought to bring home the luggage. So when it bloomed this week - it's first Summer in it's new home - I cried. Not just a little, but a lot.
Pardon me while I go grab a tissue to wipe off the laptop.