(This post is written in Bill’s voice)
They surrounded her in life – and they surrounded her in the life here-after: white roses.
No matter what the occasion, Paula loved white roses. I would always pretend to cringe at the cost of them – but that was part of the game. And what made the cheese more binding was that Stacey, my daughter, would always order them “arranged” and “delivered”.
On her birthday, in particular, Paula anticipated those roses and we all enjoyed the roses for weeks afterwards. This Wednesday would have been Paula’s birthday… I won’t tell you her age as she would have thought that to be impolite. She was as beautiful on the day she died as she was the first time I met her. She was stunning. She would often tell me the story about when she was 16 and was told she was the ugly duckling of the family. You know the story – the ugly duckling didn’t fit in with it’s family – and then realized it was actually a beautiful swan. That was Paula. My Paula – the swan.
Roses were so appropriate for her as they were so strong, yet delicate. Their aroma filled the air to the extent that one could not help but breathe in a deeply. I always pretended to not be impressed with them – you know, I’m the cheap old bugger… she’d giggle. White was the colour of her life – Paula was a nurse. She took great pride in this profession and the care she took tending to her patients was reflected in the way she’d care for the nurses uniform itself. She was quite to remark on any nurse that looked sloppy and unprofessional. Her cap was crisp, meticulously ironed, and she looked fine in it. The uniform itself was always white – rose white.
My Paula left this good earth to a better address nearly three years ago and she has been surrounded by roses ever since. I’ve just never had to have them delivered!
(Stacey’s voice) You are remembered, Mom. And you are always loved.