Better than a dozen roses.

Posted on by under All sorts, eye of beholder, Family, Remember, Seasons

The weekend was perfect for so many reasons. First, Leslie orchestrated a tea party Saturday on the porch at the end of the corridor where Peter lives. Grandson Miah was the surprise guest. What a treat all ’round.

A proper tea with tea pot and fresh baked cookies.
Peter, Miah and Martin.
Dad-Dad and Miah. I’m the silver-haired reflection in the mirror.
Leslie pours, milk first, then the tea.

Then, on Sunday, I organized a walk in a favorite park for Peter, Nobby and me. My husband actually remembered having been there, “Once,” he said. I told him we’d been there many times over the years.  “Many times?!” he asked with raised eyebrow. He shook his head. Nobby remembered too, romping as if he were still a puppy instead of an old fellow of ten.

As we meandered back to the car, Peter lagged behind. I kept glancing over my shoulder to make sure he was following — he has a history of getting lost or hiding to scare me. When he caught up, he held up a bouquet of maple leaves. “Would you like to have these?” he asked. His eyes twinkled and he had sweetest smile.

Would I ever!” Thank you,” I said and took his hand, something he usually hates. He actually leaned in to kiss me but knocked both of our caps askew. A laugh, a kiss and a bouquet on a beautiful orange and red afternoon. Better than a dozen roses any day.

I took the scenic route back. Peter laughed when I said I thought we were lost. “You never get lost,” he said, and indeed I don’t and I wasn’t lost then. Then I told him I was more worried about being low on gas. That really made him laugh because he remembered how much I hate to pump gas.

When I opened the door to his room he looked shocked. The space was unusually tidy and the bright potted mum in the window glowed in the sunshine. “Is this where I live now?” he asked. I nodded. “Good!” he said. He took his jacket off, tossed it on his bed, and gave me a hug.

I tuned his tv to a soccer match, parked him in his chair, and headed home to put my fanciful bouquet in water and reflect on the glorious autumn weekend.

Outside looking in, Nobby seems to approve my maple syrup “vase” and fetching bouquet.

 

2016 National Society of Newspaper Columnists’ contest finalist. 

15 thoughts on “Better than a dozen roses.”

  4. Should have had someone take a picture of the 3 of you with your phone together smiling . These are blessed memories, you and Peter deserve them. Hugs to u Amy

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    • We were the onlyones in the park. I wish I had a picture, but I have the memory. Peter even remembered a bit about the day when I visited today. Hugs back, Amy.

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  6. Photos are objects that we store away in a box and look at sometimes. Memories are places in our heart that do not fade but grow sweeter every day.

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  8. What a lovely time for a very special couple. (you are a great writer) This is my first comment but I have enjoyed your column it brings smiles & inspiration for finding joy in tough times. I have recommended your blog to my sister who is a caregiver for her husband that has alzheimer’s.
    Bonnie Griffith

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    • Hi Bonnie, Thanks for your kind comment. I hope that readers who are dealing with Alzheimer’s in one way or another can glean any little thing from my posts that might help. I help myself by writing about it. Best to your sister. It ain’t easy, as they say.

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