When roses Bloom: Entry two

My thoughts were like four walls closing in on me.

The memories of my past were slowly seeping like sweat through the pores of my skin. Brought to my knees in my puddle of my own tears I yelled, "God, I want so save her. Please, help me save her."

I lay there hopeless, clutching a dried,dead rose. Pieces of the rose were literally breaking off as I held on to it tighter. Beginning to hyperventilate, I lay my head down and begin to pray.

"Lord please, how could she be like this?" I said silently. " Give me a sign that you hear me, please."

Within moments an bright, golden-yellowish light, began to shine above me. Looking up, I realized that the light was moving closer and getting brighter.

After the glowing figure was brought into focus, it was indeed a beautiful angel.

"Child, I hear your cries and I cradle you when you sleep." The angel said. " You are not alone and yes, I have heard your prayers in heaven. It breaks my heart so see you in so much pain."

The angel bent down, looked into my eyes, looked down and noticed the rose in my hand.

"Why do you keep this withered, dead rose?" the angel said as she lifted back one finger at a time to remove the rose from my grip. "It is dead and now you need to put it to rest. This is your friend dear. You cannot save her. There is nothing left to save and you have to accept that."

I began to cry and did not want to let that rose go for I was hanging on to it for dear life.

The rose was a symbol of an old friend. It started out healthy and beautiful, then through the years it started to die. Within time, it dried up, blackened and was brittle to the touch. There was no sign of recovery.

In hopes of being able to water it back to health, there was always a silent hope for revival but it never happened.

The thorns of the rose pricked me many times, making me bleed but I was in denial. Maybe I was holding on to tight or perhaps not tight enough.

Love come in many forms and love can die many deaths. Like the dead not being able to cross over, not letting go will only resurrect unwanted pain and misery.

Glancing at the rose for the last time, I surrendered it to the angel. She looked at me with a pleased look and shook her head.

"It is time." she whispered. "You are doing the right thing and you never gave up."

The angel glared at the deceased flower, kissed it and then threw it up into the air. It floated in midair for a few seconds then turned into glittery ashes.

Scattering like rain from the sky, I watched my friend be put to rest. There was nothing I could do.

All these years I held that rose in a box, much like a coffin, hoping it would return to life. It never did. No petals, no color and no sign of existence. It just continued to decay.

Yet the angel made me realize that the longer I held on to the rose the longer the healing would be delayed.

Smiling at me the angel looked into my eyes and began to hum a song I have heard before.

It was song I had wrote years before and the melody pierced my heart like an arrow.

The angel kissed me on the forehead and wrapped her wings around me as I cried. I eventually fell asleep and she had flown away before the dawn. My grieving process began and now I could finally move on.

No matter how painful letting go of something or someone may be, it is a part of life that needs to happen sometimes.

New seeds can always be planted and new flowers can always grow. It is just a matter of putting faith and trust in God that he decides when roses bloom..

For the earth is his soil, and the roots are his anchor. Letting go can be painful, but time will eventually heal all wounds. Perhaps the next batch of roses will not have so many thorns.