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Description

The Rose
by Michael Prince

It's hard for me to understand why things happen, its almost like we're nothing but characters in a play made specially for god so he can remain entertained. It all started when My mother died, this was long, long ago...she's been dead for as long as I can remember. My father blamed me for her death and sent me to live with my grandmother. My grandma always told me it was never my fault and sometimes the stress of having a child could kill anybody. But those words never helped. I wasn't happy growing up, the most fun I had as a kid was staring at this rose sitting by the window. There was something about this Rose that was strange, it was always there, and for some reason I never even thought about it for the longest time. My grandmother always tried to tell me about the history of that rose, but I never cared to hear the story. I was so stubborn I would cut my grandma off every time she tried to talk about the rose. I really didn't give a fuck about the rose, it was just one of those things I always stared at, especially when I was lonely. I knew one day my grandma would tell me about that rose whether I wanted to hear about it or not.

Unfortunately, my last days on earth came to me quicker than what I expected. I was 18 years old when I was diagnosed with stomach cancer..the cancer had spread so fast there was nothing the doctor could do. I just had to wait and suffer until I die. I was expected to die any minute, but at this point I was actually somewhat happy. Sure the medicine the nurse's gave me made me feel like complete crap physically, but the only thing that kept me going was my state of mind. I literally thought every day "this will all be over". Can you really blame me? my mother died, my father wanted nothing to do with me, I had no friends at school, and I never even got to experience what it's like to have a girlfriend. I missed out on so much, but yet no one would take me to experience these "wonderful things" life has to offer. I was ready god dammit.

Another day had come again, and my grandmother came in to visit me. "Hey, honey...I have a gift for you" she said. She opened her purse and handed me the rose that used to sit by the window. "But why grandma?" I asked out of curiosity. "Your mother grew this rose before you were born, and the day of her due date, the rose bloomed." My thoughts started racing at 1,000 miles per hour...how come the rose stayed alive this whole time? I just thought my grandma bought a new rose every few weeks...flowers don't even live that long...but this one apparently stayed alive my whole life. Before I could ask her any questions about why this rose lived so long, I saw the light...my heart stopped...it was time to go.

I finally got the answers...
The rose was my mother looking after me...when she died, her spirit stayed near the rose and never left.

Description

The Rose
by Michael Prince

It's hard for me to understand why things happen, its almost like we're nothing but characters in a play made specially for god so he can remain entertained. It all started when My mother died, this was long, long ago...she's been dead for as long as I can remember. My father blamed me for her death and sent me to live with my grandmother. My grandma always told me it was never my fault and sometimes the stress of having a child could kill anybody. But those words never helped. I wasn't happy growing up, the most fun I had as a kid was staring at this rose sitting by the window. There was something about this Rose that was strange, it was always there, and for some reason I never even thought about it for the longest time. My grandmother always tried to tell me about the history of that rose, but I never cared to hear the story. I was so stubborn I would cut my grandma off every time she tried to talk about the rose. I really didn't give a fuck about the rose, it was just one of those things I always stared at, especially when I was lonely. I knew one day my grandma would tell me about that rose whether I wanted to hear about it or not.

Unfortunately, my last days on earth came to me quicker than what I expected. I was 18 years old when I was diagnosed with stomach cancer..the cancer had spread so fast there was nothing the doctor could do. I just had to wait and suffer until I die. I was expected to die any minute, but at this point I was actually somewhat happy. Sure the medicine the nurse's gave me made me feel like complete crap physically, but the only thing that kept me going was my state of mind. I literally thought every day "this will all be over". Can you really blame me? my mother died, my father wanted nothing to do with me, I had no friends at school, and I never even got to experience what it's like to have a girlfriend. I missed out on so much, but yet no one would take me to experience these "wonderful things" life has to offer. I was ready god dammit.

Another day had come again, and my grandmother came in to visit me. "Hey, honey...I have a gift for you" she said. She opened her purse and handed me the rose that used to sit by the window. "But why grandma?" I asked out of curiosity. "Your mother grew this rose before you were born, and the day of her due date, the rose bloomed." My thoughts started racing at 1,000 miles per hour...how come the rose stayed alive this whole time? I just thought my grandma bought a new rose every few weeks...flowers don't even live that long...but this one apparently stayed alive my whole life. Before I could ask her any questions about why this rose lived so long, I saw the light...my heart stopped...it was time to go.

I finally got the answers...
The rose was my mother looking after me...when she died, her spirit stayed near the rose and never left.