My father is not one for flowers or presents in general, for that matter. As far back as I can remember, either I bought gifts for him to give to my mom, he gave her a horrible one he picked out himself (ehem - can you say roadside emergency kit?) or he just doesn't buy her anything at all. I am 100 precent sure he has never bought a single gift for me himself.
Except for one.
When I was born though, he came to the hospital with roses. As mom tells the story, two dozen perfect yellow roses. One for me and one for her. I have an affinity for yellow roses. In my mind, yellow symbolizes love a million times more than boring old red roses.
Today, a rose bloomed in my back yard.
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