My dad's shop shared a wall with a florist. Only, the wall wasn't a solid separation between the two businesses. There was a connection...I can't remember if it was a cased doorway or literally a hole in the wall, but there was access from one space to the other through the back rooms, covered by a curtain. (Oh how the building code guys would have a fit over that these days! heehee! I won't get on my building code soap box. We're having happy memories here). I used to love going to the flower shop's back room! They had fuzzy pipe cleaners in every color a kid could want and they would let me play with them. What fun!
The proximity of the flower shop made it easy for my dad to remember special occasions, and I dare say the flower shop owner probably reminded him sometimes too. It was there that the tradition of the gift of a single rose was begun. Every Valentine's Day, and birthdays too, my dad would give me a bud vase with a single red rose, white baby's breath, greenery, and a ribbon. Even after I was living a state away and married, Dad would call my husband and ask him to get a rose for me from him. He did this every year until he passed im 2005. Isn't that sweet?
And so, carrying the tradition forward, now I get three roses...one from each of my special guys. And considering that the number three is special to me, it's just perfect!
I'll never be a "dozen roses" kind of girl.
Happy Valentine's Day!!
3 comments:
Very Sweet, and I am with you I can enjoy one just as well as a dozen.
This about the sweetest thing I've ever heard. Happy Valentine's, my friend!
This made me cry; in a good way, it is such a sweet story. Thank you for sharing it, Karen. I love the 3 roses from your guys, perfect!
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