A single rose

A single rose can be my garden... a single friend, my world.

Leo Buscaglia*


It was a touch of magic today, when I was feeling low and lonely, to look out of the window and see my Dad rose in flower in the sun in December. Such a rare and welcome sun, and such an unlikely yet welcome flash of colour.
I think, deep down, many people believe in some kind of magic in their own way - in my case it is the magic of Mother Nature and the magic of coincidence to bring me things that soothe at pertinent times.
It's quite relevant to this time of year too - that we should all be allowed to believe in our own kind of magic.

I smiled at the rose and whispered, "Hello, Dad."

So I decided to look for a lovely quote about fathers that suited how I feel about my father, and I found this:

There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself.
John Gregory Brown

I didn't realise just how much my father's values ran through me until after his death.


*I found another quote by Leo Buscaglia today that I like:
It is paradoxical that many educators and parents still differentiate between a time for learning and a time for play without seeing the vital connection between them.