{"id":1513,"date":"2013-05-11T17:36:04","date_gmt":"2013-05-11T17:36:04","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sandiherron.com\/blog\/?p=1513"},"modified":"2026-07-21T16:43:13","modified_gmt":"2026-07-21T21:43:13","slug":"my-mothers-roses-a-gift-of-promise","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sandiherron.com\/blog\/my-mothers-roses-a-gift-of-promise\/","title":{"rendered":"My Mother&#8217;s Roses &#8211; A Gift of Promise"},"content":{"rendered":"<div class=\"et_pb_section_0 et_pb_section et_section_regular et_block_section\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_row_0 et_pb_row et_block_row\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_column_0 et_pb_column et_pb_column_4_4 et-last-child et_block_column et_pb_css_mix_blend_mode_passthrough\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_image_0 et_pb_image et_pb_module et_flex_module\"><span class=\"et_pb_image_wrap\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9731\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sandiherron.com\/blog\/my-mothers-roses-a-gift-of-promise\/roses_img0279-1100b\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sandiherron.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/05\/roses_img0279-1100b.jpg?fit=1100%2C400&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"1100,400\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-title=\"roses_img0279-1100b\" data-image-description=\"&lt;p&gt;My mother&amp;#8217;s roses, a gift of promise.&lt;\/p&gt;\n\" data-image-caption=\"&lt;p&gt;My mother&amp;#8217;s roses, a gift of promise.&lt;\/p&gt;\n\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sandiherron.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/05\/roses_img0279-1100b.jpg?fit=800%2C291&amp;ssl=1\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sandiherron.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/05\/roses_img0279-1100b.jpg?resize=1080%2C393&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"My mother&#039;s roses, a gift of promise.\" title=\"roses_img0279-1100b\" width=\"1080\" height=\"393\" srcset=\"https:\/\/sandiherron.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/05\/roses_img0279-1100b.jpg 1100w, https:\/\/sandiherron.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/05\/roses_img0279-1100b-980x356.jpg 980w, https:\/\/sandiherron.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/05\/roses_img0279-1100b-480x175.jpg 480w\" sizes=\"(min-width: 0px) and (max-width: 480px) 480px, (min-width: 481px) and (max-width: 980px) 980px, (min-width: 981px) 1100px, 100vw\" class=\"wp-image-9731\" \/><\/span><\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_text_0 et_pb_text et_pb_bg_layout_light et_pb_module et_block_module\"><div class=\"et_pb_text_inner\"><p>It was my first Mother\u2019s Day after my mom had passed away in February of 2008. I was sad, missing her terribly. I longed to sit with her, share our thoughts and ideas of new sewing or crafts projects we would do together. I poured myself a cup of coffee and decided to spend some time in the <a href=\"https:\/\/sandiherron.com\/blog\/the-memory-garden\/\" title=\"Memory Garden\">Memory Garden<\/a> I built in her honor, located around one of our favorite oak trees.<\/p>\n<p>The <a href=\"https:\/\/sandiherron.com\/blog\/the-memory-garden\/\" title=\"Memory Garden\">Memory Garden<\/a> features plants and shrubs from my mom\u2019s gardens, as well as plants or objects given by friends in her memory. Her rose garden was one of her favorites, so it was an emotional process of digging and transplanting the rose bushes. Growing and caring for roses has always been a gardening challenge for me. I felt concerned in replanting the roses that they would not survive no matter how much care I gave.<\/p>\n<p>As far back as I can remember in my adult life, each morning my mom and I had coffee together. As changes came, no matter where we were, or how many miles separated us, we sat together, via phone if necessary, and enjoyed a cup of coffee while talking about life. We cherished those times, and on this Mother\u2019s Day morning, I longed to share another cup of coffee with my sweet mom. With my cup of fresh, brewed coffee in hand, I made my way to the Memory Garden to sit and reminisce on so many wonderful memories my mom and I made together.<\/p>\n<p>While working in the garden the day before, I noticed the roses were looking a little on the shabby side. So, I snipped and pruned, cleaned a few weeds from around the bushes, hoping to perk them up and they would make it through the growing season. Whether they bloomed or not, my goal was for them to at least survive.<\/p>\n<p>Enjoying the coolness of the morning, I entered the garden where morning dew still lingered on the tips of plants. I felt a sense of peace and serenity. It was calming. I realized that as I had worked to transplant and revive my mother\u2019s plants, it symbolized to me the hope and knowledge that death is not the end of life. Even though I now sat alone without her by my side drinking coffee and remembering good times, there would still be many good times to come in life because I was so blessed to have her as my mother. She taught me so much about life.<\/p>\n<p>Smiling, I\u00a0took another sip of coffee. As I did, my eyes were drawn to a beautiful red rose, in full bloom, on a plant that looked hopeless just the day before! Was it my pruning, my clearing out the weeds from the base of the plant that had revived it so quickly, and brought about its beauty? Oh, but I knew it could only be the Hand of God showing me that no matter what I do, He is the Master Gardener! He is the one who gives hope, breathes life into weary souls, and makes droopy rose bushes bloom in beauty. And, when we are at our lowest, sorrowful times, He gives\u00a0a beautiful fragrant rose to remind us of life and point us to the Giver of Life.<\/p>\n<p>My mother\u00a0loved me, nurtured me, and guided me to the important things in life.\u00a0I am\u00a0thankful today that my mom\u2019s rose bushes are not only alive but are still blooming! Each time I walk through the garden and see them, I smile!<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>It was my first Mother&#8217;s Day after my mom passed away. I was sad and longed to be sitting with her, sharing&#8230; <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":9731,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","__cvm_playback_settings":[],"__cvm_video_id":"","footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[76,77,7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1513","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-faith","category-family","category-notes"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v28.1 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/product\/yoast-seo-wordpress\/ -->\n<title>My Mother&#039;s Roses - A Gift of Promise | Life at Spring Meadows<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"As I worked to transplant and revive my mother\u2019s roses, it symbolized the hope that death is not the end. 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