We planted this rosebush at the front corner of our house. It was planted in April, right after we brought it home from Nana’s funeral. The past couple of weeks it seems we have all missed Nana even more. I think a big part of it is that one year ago we were all headed to Pensacola Beach to have a family vacation. She made a big deal out of celebrating Katie’s birthday there and making it special for all of her grandkids. Nana enjoyed fall, driving around Cade’s Cove and looking at the changing leaves, getting ready to laugh at her grandchildren in their costumes, preparing for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I guess what continually shocks me is she is really not here. Really not ever going to be here to see Katie’s haircut, to see Theodore dressed up as a scarecrow, to see Foster’s first missing tooth space, to watch Parker smile. And not here to check on us grown ups either, to call and see if we are taking care of ourselves, to encourage my husband and I to go on a date and take time for our marriage. Not one of us would have said to each other last year at the beach “we better enjoy this trip together because it will be our last one with all of us.” Grieving is an up and down rollercoaster. And I hate rollercoasters, so that’s a good analogy for me. The rosebush that we planted in Nana’s memory has consistently given us a beautiful rose, sometimes two or three but most of the time just one. Roses were Nana’s favorite flower and I love to have the reminder of the joy she brought to our lives. I feel like our rosebush is humble and that makes me think of Nana the most. Humility made her beautiful in the sight of God.