The Rose Garden

A new perspective

The Rose Garden

I sat in the rose garden, listening to the bees buzz, smelling the wonderful fragrances, and feeling the warm sun on my skin. My eyes were closed just for a second to take in the sounds, smells, and the sun. Oh how I loved this rose garden.
But my favorite part was all the beautiful roses. I got up to look around at all of the roses, like a spectator or a tourist, even though I had been here a million times and even helped plant it. The roses bloomed in so many fabulous colors: white, yellow, pink, blue, and the infamous red. Every color, whether natural or engineered had its smell and had its looks. Every fall, they would shrivel up and died, only to come back to live that next spring.
The rarest of all the roses was the natural blue. One stood in the middle of the rose garden, protected by thorns and a lot of decorations. It had a distinct smell though I had never held it or felt it before. It was loved for the increased beauty that it added to the garden.
One day, I closed my eyes and they never opened again. The last thing I saw was the beautiful blue rose. And the man that I had grown to love. He held me close to him and kissed me sweetly on my lips. His lips were so soft and his skin was so smooth. I closed my eyes to capture the sensation of his lips on my neck and then my lips again.
The accident happened moments later. I was left blind and ever since, I have not been able to see anything but light. I could only hear and touch and taste and smell. But I could not find the man that I loved. Though I lost my sight, I still searched for him. I wanted him to come back to me. Or even to call. I knew that he loved me, but after a few weeks, I assumed that he was lost, along with my sight that afternoon.
I finally ventured back to the rose garden. Same bees buzzed to repair the flower bushes, the same warm sun to bring life back to the roses, same sweet fragrance of the roses in the air. I put down my stick and felt around the garden for the different roses that were engraved in my memory. And there they were. Though I could no longer see them, I could still feel their shapes and know that they were just as I left them.
The rare blue rose was not there though. I felt for its protective décor and the thorns that protected the rare rose. That’s when I remembered the car plowing through the rose garden and into me and my love,, uprooting the rarest of the roses. And the most innocent of love.
As I continued my journey around the rose garden through my memory, I came across someone.
“I’m sorry,” I said, jerking my hands back and taking a step back.
“Don’t be,” a man’s voice said.
He took my hands in his and gently kissed them both. I would have jerked away, but the touch was familiar. I lifted my hands to his face and gently felt every wrinkle, every freckle, every curve was in the right place. As I continued up his face, I felt stitches in his forehead. He winced a little when I gently touched it and I could feel the tears in my eyes.
“I wish I could see you,” I said.
“You can,” he said. With that, he kissed me with that oh-so-familiar kiss. Soft lips, like rose petals.
“Where have you been?” I asked crying in his arms.
“Waiting for you,” he said. “Right here.”
Forever started in that rose garden that afternoon. I had a new hope and a love that could never die. Now that I know one day I will get my sight back, I can hold onto the last thing I saw. The love in my husband’s eyes. And hopefully, the first thing I will see will be those same eyes and that same innocent love.

Reviews

[magensby]

The journey began and you allow the reader to saunter through and then the abruptness of the crash and the reader slowly returns to the path and you take us back to the spot where it began but with a different result. Thnx for the read.