Enforced Secret Joy #20 – The SuperRoses Survived!

They started like this – little tiny shoots in their Amy The Writer’s Master Plant’s Eye. Common Sense told me to cut them down, but my perverse nature of “Nah, You Run With That Ball As Long As You Want To And I’ll Watch From The Sidelines Because Far Be It For Me To Tell You What You Can Or Can’t Do” prevailed.

And so, much like a parent who does nothing when their child falls off the swingset because they know the tyke’s okay, and to run out there would only encourage the tyke to burst into tears and become a huge crybaby (or perhaps that was only my folks), I let the shoots grow. Maybe they’d break. Maybe they survive. I wasn’t gonna shape their destiny for them.

And here they are now. Isn’t it awesome! It’s NOVEMBER! Do you folks on the East Coast have roses that grow like this in NOVEMBER!? I DO!

I spend every morning watering them and reading my Oswald The Guilt Tripper Devotionalist to the yellow roses in the back and Lloyd The Gentler Devotionalist Ogilive to the reddies in the front. Surprisingly, the yellow ones are pretty hardy, despite hearing things like “If God can accomplish His purposes in the world through a broken heart, then why not thank Him for breaking yours?”

The funny thing about me and my roses is that I never cut them to make a bouquet for the house. Ex Roomie Cackle once asked to cut a few to impress a chick he was dating, but I never cut them for any special occasion. There’s no reason why I couldn’t, I just never do. Maybe because I know their destiny is to be outside roses. Maybe because once you cut them, they start shedding petals almost immediately, and it’s a sad sight to see yellow and red rose petals keeping company with the dust bunnies and various electric cords on the floor. Maybe because I’m lazy. Who knows.

But man, these beauties went for the brass ring and grabbed it with both…um…stems, didn’t they.

Dear God, thank you for the SuperRoses. Thank You that they survived, thank You that they didn’t break. Thank you that they had a goal to reach full blossom and that they achieved it. Please help me not to get down on myself that I haven’t reached my current goals lately to the full conclusion like they have. They are, after all, plants. It’s a much simpler life. Can I be a red rose next time around? Oh, wait, sorry, You don’t believe in reincarnation. Well, that’s cool, because frankly, unless I could come back as a red rose, I wouldn’t wanna do the whole thing again, once is enough. Not that I’m not grateful. I’m grateful, I’m grateful! Thank you for the clothes on my back, the shoes on my feet, the gas in my car, the house that I rent, the flowers in my yard, the opportunities I’ve had for writing in the past, and the opportunities I’ll have in the future. But most of all, thank you for these roses. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Amen.