Roses bloomed every May, the month Ryan’s mother, Rose, planted them—not November, when she died. Ryan cared for a rose plant with her ashes, finding comfort in its life.
His estranged father, Larry, called after years of silence, asking to stay while “sick.” Ryan reluctantly agreed. Larry wanted to reconnect but lied about his illness.
When Larry accidentally broke the rose plant—his mother’s ashes scattered—Ryan’s grief and anger overwhelmed him, and he asked Larry to leave.
Years later, Ryan finished a novel about loss and forgiveness, replanted roses with the saved soil, and learned to let go.
After Larry’s death, Ryan skipped the funeral but wrote a letter, admitting he was beginning to forgive.
Watching new roses bloom, Ryan whispered, “I’m working on it, Mom.”
