The Rose Petal

Today I only share one poem. This poem has a story behind it. I’ll post the poem, then tell the story.

The Rose Petal
© W. Scott Grant
August 29, 2000 10:15 pm

I remember when 
     The petal fell from the rose 
     And took that strange turn. 
     It still sits inside its crystal box 
     Atop the dresser.

I remember when 
     You touched me the first time 
     You accepted me with all faults 
     Loving me into being a man 
     I loved you into being a woman.

I remember when 
     We bought our home together 
     Big plans, ideas, and lots of energy 
     But life got in the way 
     Somehow, together, we always came through.

I remember when 
     I sat with you in the waiting room 
     The day of your surgery 
     The day fate took you away from me 
     Or God, whomever.

I remember when 
     As I look again at the rose petal 
     We promised, we made our vows 
     Now I watch you slowly slip away 
     To the care of angels.

I remember when.


If you’ve been following along, you’ll know by now that Brenda was quite a bit older than me. We were introduced by a mutual friend – he told me “You just gotta meet this family.” Initially, Brenda tried to fix me up with one of her daughters, but that never worked (nor would have, thankfully.) When I came to visit, I spent more time with Brenda than with the daughter. We seemed to have a lot in common and our personalities just fit together perfectly.

My mother raised roses (one year, she won 2nd place nationwide in Victory Garden’s Front-Yard contest.) It was some time in October when my mom gave me some roses she’d picked to take to whomever I’d been seeing. The roses were in a vase on the table while Brenda was teaching me how to read the Tarot, when one of the rose petals dropped from the flower. We both watched it softly flutter its way to the table, but just before it got there, it took a weird turn and landed inside the Tarot card box.

We decided that it had to have meaning, so we kept it – just that one rose petal. We put it inside a little plastic box, inside a larger crystal box with the image of a rose etched on the lid. It remained on our dresser the entire time we were together and beyond (17 years.)

Just a couple weeks ago, I was going through a box of old things, looking for something else. I still have that box, within a box. And the rose petal is still inside. Unfortunately, the boxes aren’t sealed. Even though it’s darkened with age, the petal is still intact over 30 years later.



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