I love this rose bush.
It is an old fashioned variety that has very loose full blooms. One reason I love it is because it was transplanted from Mom and Dad's house.
A few days after Mom's funeral, my family left for Missouri for Misty and Dan's wedding reception back there. My sister's husband, Greg, asked if I wanted him to transplant one of their rose bushes into our yard while we were gone. He was afraid it would be too late for transplanting by the time we got home. It was so thoughtful of him to even think of it.
So, when we got home the next week, this rose bush was planted here by the front porch. Every summer when it blooms I think of Mom and Dad.
Mom always said that some of the rose bushes in their yard came from my grandparent's house, and that some of those actually came across the plains with our pioneer ancestors.
I don't know if this is one of those roses,
but I would like to think it is.
but I would like to think it is.
3 comments:
I've never heard that story, Mom. I'm learning so much from this blog! Today Annie said a number of times "When will we go to Grandma Ashton's house?" I wish it was that easy! Miss you, Tiff
A Rose bush that has crossed the plain's. Living year after year with some help from Charlet or Golden who I bet comes to take care of it from time to time. I'm not sure how this all works, but I wish there were people in my family like Greg.
I'd never heard that story either! Maybe we need to talk more. Anyhow, that's funny about Annie 'cause Harrison last night said, "Mom--Remember our Grandpa Ashton?" Of course I said yes! Then he said, "I want him to come to our house." And I got to tell him you were coming soon. He's very excited. (Dad, notice he asked for you not mom! You're moving up in the ranks)
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