Red roses

I have this scraggly old rose bush in the front of the house that I've been meaning to dig up since we moved in six years ago. It never bloomed and I assumed that was because it didn't get enough sunlight. I also assumed it was a wild rose bush that would have little white flowers if it ever bloomed.

That's part of the reason I kept it. Wild roses were Ellen's favorite because of their fragrance, and it's right by the window of the spare room, where Mike spent his final days.

I came home from Shannon's graduation last week and looked up, and the bush was full of gorgeous deep red roses. It had a dozen or more prefect blooms. In six years, I never saw even a hint of a bloom.

No, I don't think it's a message from Mike, but it is pretty cool. It lifts my spirits every time I walk out the front door.