The Legacy

It’s been almost a year now since the Rose Man joined the ancestors.  Every day brings another adjustment; some big, some small.  Last February I despaired over how I could possibly prune some 50-70 rose bushes.  Off to the Woodland Park Rose Garden for a pruning demonstration by the Seattle Rose Society and a serendipitous meeting with a young friend of the Rose Man, Jason.  He volunteered to give me a helping hand and to demonstrate rose pruning to any neighbors who might be available to help. We set the date for March 10th, the day after a highly anticipated event in our family.

Family gathered on the 9th to celebrate mom’s 100th birthday. Her health had taken a downward turn so even though she wasn’t able to attend her party, family was able to visit her in a lovely Adult Family Home setting, and none of us will ever forget her sweet happy smile on that special occasion as she reunited with loved ones; all of her grands and great-grandchildren and her 90 year old baby sister. She took her last breath with a deep sigh the next morning.

As she did in life, this beloved matriarch orchestrated her final passage beautifully. She’d hung on to life long enough to meet her goal of being the first one in her family to live a full century I don’t suppose it matters on the other side but in her earthly body I think she would have had a good laugh seeing herself on The Today Show and Willard Scott’s time honored observance of the country’s centurions.

The roses were pruned that afternoon by a yard full of neighbors. Jason even wrote an article for the Rose Society newsletter about the event, about our wonderful neighborhood spirit. I’ve written about my neighbors before (see the June 18, 2012 blog post). One neighbor suggested we make rose pruning an annual event. The Rose Man’s Legacy continues.

And there was music/And there were wonderful roses/They tell me/In sweet fragrant meadows of dawn, and dew.

There are so many little things that the Rose Man too care of that are now my daily challenges. I woke one morning. It was still dark outside and I lay there in the quiet. From the basement I heard a woman’s voice, or at least I thought I had. Was a radio on down there? Or was it a voice from outside that only seemed to come from the basement? I couldn’t be sure. I had to investigate and down I went. All seemed in order and quiet in the basement. Just about that time I heard the squeak from dying batteries in the smoke alarm upstairs; a job in the past for the Rose Man but now mine. I got out the step stool, the new battery and replaced the squawker. Might as well change the one downstairs. And then I heard it again, the woman’s voice. I went in search of the voice and discovered yet another smoke alarm I hadn’t known was down there. That’s when I heard the woman’s voice again. She was saying, “Batteries are low, batteries low.” A talking smoke alarm! Did you know that there were talking smoke alarms? The Rose Man must have known when he installed it but I don’t remember him saying anything.

There was love all around/But I never heard it singing/No, I never heard it at all/Till there was you! From The Music Man by Meredith Wilson.

Hope this prints. Gave up trying last November. Thanks to all who told me they missed this blog.