Roses for Remembrance

“They are not long, the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty dream, our path emerges for a while, then closes, within a dream.”
― Ernest Dowson, The Poems and Prose of Ernest Dowson 

My late husband, Ken Wilson, left his beloved country home four years ago today. I've written elsewhere on this blog about how he intended to keep in touch, http://atouchoftarragon.blogspot.com/2010/06/unforgotten.html 

For the past couple of years no books have tumbled from the bookcases...and the dogs haven't refused to come in from the backyard at night. I'd guessed Ken had grown tired of haunting us. But late yesterday afternoon I arrived home late from my recent booksigning trip to St. Louis, glanced around the yards, and noticed the rosebush in back held a few tightly folded buds, but no blooms. This morning it was ablaze with color. I get the message, Ken. Once again, you seem to be trying to outdo your hero, Harry Houdini. 

It's been four years, baby, but you're still The Unforgotten! Unfortunately, during the long weekend I was gone, the noxious weed that you thought so pretty and refused to mow, the hoary alyssum, staged a comeback, and I spent an hour touring the fields, uprooting it, alternating curses with giggles. Your legacies live on.

Natty and Nami continue to sniff at the family room sofa periodically. They still miss you.The cats? Chico still sleeps on the back of your recliner. Groucho and Harpo send their regards, which you know are minimal, since they weren't your favorites.

So far this spring the deer have left your Asian lily plants undevoured. I'm hoping your spirit can continue to keep them at bay so they'll be blooming when your namesake grandchild, Kendra, comes to housesit in July.

xox