After the festivities of last night, I slept in late until midday. I got breakfast and went with my family to visit an old friend. My former neighbor lived in an independent home for the elderly. Of course my family was not ready in time. So me and my guy went to Barnes and Noble to pick some political literature. We both sort of lost our barring at the bookstore.
He purchased two politic pieces for himself and I was left empty-handed, because I could not decide on what I wanted. My family and I had a pleasant visit with our former neighbor. He is an older jewish fellow, that no longer keeps a kosher diet, in his 90s with all the vigor of a younger man. He speaks very scholarly and matter-of-factedly like a philosopher in his prime. We spoke on our individual progress and he on his late wife. Of whom he spent 75 years with, a middle school romance. Together they were married for 70 of them.
She was quite the woman…Much like a rose that blossoms later than the others, because its bloom is fuller. Everything about the rose is better, because it took the time to grow right. Its presence is thoroughly appreciated by people passing by on their way to various destinations. They pause and admire the solace and stoic beauty of a full rose draped in its spring crimson laden attire.
And then one day, a man comes not unlike any man save he is special. He examines the rose outwardly , but does not get fixated on external plessures. He takes the time appreciate its strength to grow into a magnificent rose that shares its beauty with the world. Carefully he picks the rose as to not disturb any of its petals or thorns for that matter. Because you cannot have a rose without any of its throns. And he gently fashions it onto his chest where he shows it for all the world to see. Before he lays it in a peaceful place to rest.
Hearing him speak was one of the few highlights of my day. #ohmyliba #whatofarose