I love to get roses. I love roses in all their many colors and in all their many scents. Though truth be told, I love the red rose of passion, the pink rose of romantic love, the white rose of pure love and the yellow rose of tender friendship. I love them in all their finery and all their splendor.
I really love them when my husband brings them to me.
Lately, he does not bring me gifts of rose bouquets – instead, they were rose bushes. Rather than a dozen roses that will wilt and fade in just a few short days, he gave me rose bushes that I could plant around our house. I added some to the front where we have petunias, bushes and of course, our new dynamite Red Crape Myrtle.
He told me once that he couldn’t give me poetry, but he could give me flowers. I don’t know a lot of men, who do the poetry, but flowers are a great way to say I love you, I was thinking about you; I wanted to do something for you. That’s what I love about them.
It’s nice that my husband knows that I don’t necessarily need poetry and flowers, but it doesn’t detract from the occasional gift that is given just to be given – it was a great way to start the weekend with the gift of rose bushes. I told my husband so and he enjoyed my enjoyment.
So the next time you think about getting someone flowers, think about giving them a living plant. Every time it blooms – they’ll very likely think of you!