Of Love & Memories

Three Roses

by Garth Nix

I just felt compelled to share this story I read yesterday. I thought it was so beautiful and that it needed to be shared, told and re-told, over and over again...A story about true love. Enjoy...

This is the story of a gardener who grew the most beautiful single rose the world had ever seen. It was a black rose, which was unlikely, and it bloomed the whole year round, which was impossible.

Hearing of this rose, the King decided to see it for himself. With his entourage, he rode for seven days to the gardener's simple cottage. On the morning of the seventh day, he arrived and saw the rose. It was even more beautiful than the King hand imagined, and he wanted it.

"How did you come to grow such a beautiful rose?" the King asked the gardener, who was standing silently by.

"I planted that rose on the day my wife died," replied the gardener, looking only at the flower. "It is a true, deep black, the very colour of her hair. The rose grew from my love for her."

The King turned to his servants and said "Uproot this rosebush and take it to the palace. It is too beuatiful for anyone but me."

But when the rosebush was transplanted to the palace, it lasted only a year before it withered and died. The King, who gazed upon it everyday, angrily decided that it was the gardener's fault, and he set out at once to punish him.

But when he arrived at the gardener's cottage, he was amazed to see a new rosebush growing there, with a single rose. But this rose was green, and even more beautiful than the black rose.

The King once again asked the gardener how he came to grow such a beautiful rose.

"I planted this rose on the anniversary of my wife's death," said the gardener, his eyes only on the rose. "It is the colour of her eyes, which I looked into every morning. The rose grew from my love of her."

"Take it!" commanded the King, and he turned away to ride the seven days back to his palace. Such a beautiful flower was not fit for a common man.

The green rose bloomed for two years, and the King looked upon it every day, for it brought him great contentment. Then, one morning, it was dead, the bush withered, the petals fallen to the ground. The King picked up the petals and spoke to no one for two days. Then he said, as if to convince himself, "The gardener will have another rose."

So once again he rode off with his entourage. This time, they took a spade and the palace jardinier.

Such was the King's impatience that they rode for half the nights as well as days, but there were wrong turns and flooded bridges, and it still took seven days before he once again rode to the gardener's cottage. And there was a new rosebush, with a single rose. A red rose, so beautiful that the King's men were struck silent and the King himself could only stare and gesture to the palace jardinier to take it away.

Even though the King didn't ask, the gardener spoke before the spade broke the earth around the bush.

"I planted this rose three years after the death of my wife," he said. "It is the colour of her lips, which I first kissed under a harvest moon on the hottest of summer nights. This rose grew from my love of her."

The King seemed not to hear but kept staring at the rose. Finally, he tore his gaze away and turned his horse for home.

The jardinier watched him go and stopped digging for a moment.

"Your roses are the most beautiful I have ever seen," he said. "They could only grow from a great love. But why grow them only to have these memories taken from you?"

The gardener smiled and said, "I need nothing to remind me of my wife. When I walk alone under the night sky, I see the blackness of her hair. When the light catches the green glass of a bottle, I see her eyes. When the sun is setting all red against the hills and the wind touches my cheek, I feel her kiss."

"I grew the first rose because I was afraid I might forget. When it was gone, I knew that I had lost nothing. No one can take the memory of my love."

The jardinier frowned, and he began to cut again with his spade. Then he asked, "But why do you keep growing the roses?"

"I grow them for the King," said the gardener. "He has no memories of his own, no love. And after all, they are only flowers."

Today...

& forever more...

Today is a day I hold dear to my heart.

Today, one year ago, my father gave me away and we had a beautifully simple wedding ceremony. It was perfect in its simplicity...and it meant the world to us both. It meant that legally, we were (and still are) husband and wife.

I blinked...and now its a year later. A blissful roller coaster ride of love, arguments, understanding, disagreements and compromise. And the ride hasn't ended yet. Far from it.

Today, we made plans for the future. A future together. And a year from now, I'm sure the roller coaster will have taken some unexpected turns. But it will all be fine. Because we will be going forward (hopefully) together and it'll all be an experience. But most importantly, we will have each other.

So today, I dedicate this post to my other half. He, who compliments me in each and every way. He doesn't make me whole or make me complete. We were two separate individuals to begin with and we're still two very special people. We've just decided that 2 is much better number than 1. And it's much more fun holding hands with him (and did I mention the hugging, kissing and laughing?).

I could go on and on but I think I shall stop now and go find my darling to declare my love for him a bit more privately. Plus we're going to spend the day at the Perth Royal Show...I can't wait.

Signing out now...Jason here I come!

Light a Million Candles

Now that dad is going well, it's time we focus our energies on other endeavours. I tag all of you to try and tag as many people as you can to this cause. I think we all should...

The innocent victims of Internet child abuse cannot speak for themselves.

But you can.

With your help, we can eradicate this evil trade.

We do not need your money.

We need you to light a candle of support.

We're aiming to light at least One Million Candles by December 31, 2006.

This petition will be used to encourage governments, politicians, financial institutions, payment organisations, Internet service providers, technology companies and law enforcement agencies to eradicate the commercial viability of online child abuse.

They have the power to work together. You have the power to get them to take action.

Please light your candle at lightamillioncandles.com or send an email of support to light@lightamillioncandles.com.

Together, we can destroy the commercial viability of Internet child abuse sites that are destroying the lives of innocent children.

Thank God for friends.

Dear friends,

Thank you for all your well wishes, prayers, emails, smses and support. I spoke to my dad this evening. He sounds weak and tired. But at least he's feeling well enough to talk and tell me not to waste my money on a ticket back to Malaysia to see him.

Not feeling well and thinking about me saving money. Almost back to normal. Almost like a normal conversation...only softer, more tired, older...

My mom told me that he had been re-admitted again last night but was discharged this morning. She said that the doctor had given him some medication that caused severe gastric pains and vomiting.

Mom said how our family friends came to look after dad so that she could go get his medication at the pharmacy...how a family friend went to get stuff for mom to make soup and porridge....how everyone's offered help, one way or another.

& how I'm a thousand miles away, not being able to do what a daughter should be there to do. *sigh* Breaks my heart.

And still, I sit here, unsure. The question still remains unanswered.

Should I go home?

When it rains...

It pours!

I don't get it. This year has been such a major roller coaster ride. Today, I found out that my dad was admitted in to hospital. He's had a minor stroke. Can you imagine, it's 4:26p.m. and I'm just waiting to go back home when I get an sms from my mum.

"Dad's been admitted to UH since this a.m. Might be stroke. Still waiting on diagnosis."

My hands start perspiring and I start feeling really weird...hot and cold all over and just plain uneasy. My dad...in the hospital. So I ring Jason and say "Are you ready to go? Dad's in the hospital."

We rush back home and I ring mom. She starts telling me everything (how dad didn't recognise his own hand...how he couldn't feel his toes...how he was sitting on the floor of the bedroom...) and that the neighbour helped mom to take dad to the hospital. The docs didn't know what was wrong. Mom was still waiting for someone to come & tell us what was wrong with dad.

"They've done a CT scan and its clear. They're concerned about his irregular heart beat. They still don't know what's wrong."

Waiting to find out what's wrong is always killing. Seconds drag into minutes drag into hours and feels like forever. Not knowing is always worse than knowing. You can't do anything with the unknown...you can't deal with it because you don't know what IT is...you can't see it, feel it, touch it, comprehend it. It becomes larger and scarier than what it really is, what it really should be. It becomes a monster that haunts you and stalks you and makes life a living hell.

So then, what now?

When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot...and hang on.