UncommonPromise

Crouched down almost hidden from view, I stoop to smell the intoxicating fragrance in the sunny rose garden by the picket fence. This is my routine when they are in full bloom. There is something incredibly soulful about a rose—the color, the shape, and the constantly guarding thorns that remind me to keep my distance. Inevitably, however, I move in closer, compelled to interact. They are irresistible because a rose carries more than its own beauty. Along with its sensuous form it bears the symbolism of Life’s cycle and paradox—the reminder of seasons and sweet fragrance coupled with sharp thorns. What flower has graced the pages of scrapbooks and is found dried and saved, more than the rose? Emotion and memory are tucked between the petals, revived with the touch of a fingertip.



The red rose in the multi-colored garden brought me back to my most cherished recollections of our dear friend Paola. I remembered her look, kindness, grace, and the dignity of her life well lived. In a quiet gesture of selfless giving, the rose offered itself for its appreciation inside.  Reaching down to pick a flower for the table, I inadvertently brushed against a few loose petals. Watching intently as they quietly drifted down, I took a silent breath, sensing a sudden loss until they came to rest on the rich earth below. With a respectful and reflective smile, I turned, carrying this beautiful keepsake to its inspiring new location inside our home—the vase at the center of the table. The rose, once again, graciously fulfilled its purpose.

Inspired by the memory of dear Paola Quagli Martini - Fiesole, Italy 

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Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog

The UP Side Lowdown by Cheryl