Papa's Rose Garden

"There you are mama. You need your sweater. Let's put it on before you catch a chill." Brian bent down and gently lifted his mother by the arms, placing each in the soft pink knitted cardigan.

'This was papa's favorite dear. He's forgotten it. We must clip this best bloom immediately and get it to the exhibition before the registration closes. Poor soul must be beside himself forgetting this 'Old Charley' variety. It'll get him the gold prize for sure this year.."

Brian nodded an affirmation and gently guided his frail mother from the immaculate rose garden their father had planted and nurtured for over 60 years prior. As they passed the three stone muses father had brought from France long ago, he stared at his mothers graying hair and withered hands with a deepening sadness.

"I've just been out here loving on papa's dear 'children. You know they miss him terribly when he's absent, as do I. So much care and attention goes into these beauties. It's a wonder that we, his family ever get any of his time and attention. It feels like I haven't seen him forever since the exhibition began again."

"Come mama, let's go to the kitchen and get afternoon tea and crumpets. I'll have Sells worry about getting 'Old Charley' to the exhibition while we warm up okay. You really must remember to dress warmer in this damp weather mama. Beth will never forgive me if you catch cold."

"Posh! Your sister worries too much. She has enough on her plate with 3 little ones romping around her feet. Come, come. We mustn't tarry long. Don't want to miss the judging at the exhibition. We don't see enough of papa with all his carrying on at this event for three long weeks every year. At least I can see his beauties as they take some of the best prizes in the countryside."

"Yes mama. As you wish, but don't you think you ought to lie down and rest a bit before we go?

Brian convinced her there was time for a nap. Enough time for him to clip one of the roses and stow it away where it wouldn't be seen. How long would this scene play out? He dreaded the bitterness yet to come. Time was not healing anything and it wasn't giving any clarity either.

They arrived at the exhibition and wandered around, admiring all the various displays of flora. Mama recognized many of the genre as being offshoots of papa's created varieties. They were shared and created generations for many other lovers of flowers. Nearing the end of the Rosa flora section, however, mama began to become frantic.

"I don't understand it Brian. Where are all of papa's display's? I was with him last Friday when he placed them in the truck. Why, I personally picked out some of the cuttings and brought them to him. I don't understand it. He has attended this event for 30 years. He couldn't have been disqualified. I won't hear of it! Where is your papa anyway? Brian, I want an explanation! What is going on?"

"Beth, it's time to call for the doctor. Mama, let's go sit down for a bit. You are getting upset. Let me explain it to you again, please."

"Posh, I don't need the doctor. I need your papa. I need an explanation. Why are his displays not here? You just had Sells bring his best newest variety, 'Ole Charley', in earlier this afternoon. You told me so yourself."

"Oh, mama. Don't you remember?" There were those deep, sad eyes again. A reflection of his papa's eyes. "Mama, don't you remember the accident 3 years ago right before the exhibition?"