MY HARVEST OF ROSES. (The taste that my father and mother had)
It is ironic to think that something so beautiful can be something very exhilarating when you showed something that you cultivated, even if it was about two or five roses that you have loved so much and that are no longer physically, it is painful to see and know that although there has been a great number of them, you can not show them when you used to run to teach them or by a phone call you told about their evolution, that color that swings between the fuscia (red sometimes, I never understood why) and the pink.
If that pink characteristic of that lazito that they use for that damn disease called cancer where many people use it just to use it but to live it I do not know but I think you create a hatred for that, because if I hate it, it's not good to do it, my mom always I said that we should never deny the things that happen to us, but I have not yet learned to be indifferent to that and less when I take away what I have wanted, deafening screams and mute words that will not be heard or answered. Where for that great rage cut all those roses and under a cloudy and sad morning began to sprout new stems and in each of them from 3 to 5 roses, as they say there will be that the pain is what makes you feel alive when you lose the control and you can only scream? Maybe it was a way of showing me that they will always be with me and that there are things we never understand.
More than 40 roses that were given after that discharge of rage, but in the middle of that confusion to see all of them with that brightness and that smell were as promised to the place where they are two in the middle of some other relative and many strangers with other stories of pain .. I know it's a lie that to bring flowers means remorse or charges of conscience, you just have to live it to feel it and everyone handles their pain as they want, without spectators and without competence of whoever hurts the most or who less. I know that in my head there are many questions without answers and a great hatred for that disease, maybe one day I will respect it, maybe it is the meaning of all to kill hatred and to heal with love. meanwhile hundreds of fragments wandering in my mind.