I’ve never really embraced Valentine’s Day – I’ve never gone wild for huge bouquets of roses and boxes of chocolates. I’ve never had great expectations of what I might receive. I’ve not been that bothered. To me Valentine’s Day is far more personal, it was the day I would say Happy Birthday Papa.
My Papa was a wonderful bear of a man. I adored him as a little girl. I always found it amusing that his middle name was Valentine. I never got to ask him what he thought about that. I wonder how he coped at school, I wondered how he coped as a Vicar with Valentine as his middle name.
Papa grew the most amazing roses, they were his pride and joy. Reds, pinks and yellows. You’d arrive at his bungalow and the front garden would be awash with colour, wonderful scent and delicate petals. He was rushed into hospital on my 13th birthday, he died 3 days later, unexpectedly, on his wedding anniversary. I never got to say goodbye, neither did my Mum, which must have been awfully hard for her.
For a long, long time I couldn’t bare to look at roses. I missed Papa too much. As an adult I still can’t look at coloured roses without thinking of him, without feeling a little sad. Somehow white roses are ok, I don’t associate white roses with Papa at all! I had white roses in my wedding bouquet. But bright colourful roses – say Papa to me, loud and clear!
I’d love to have known Papa as an adult. Having learnt about his parents, I can only imagine that his Mother fought to have Valentine as his middle name. His Father was a harsh man, certainly not romantic, so I like to think his Mother must have been.
So today, I will look at the clouds and say Happy Birthday Papa, I hope you’re tending a rose garden in the heavens. I miss you Papa, I always will
Lovely post. My Gran used to grow roses in her garden. They were beautiful. I love roses as a result and whenever I see them I’m reminded of her. At first that was hard but now, it’s like I know she’s there watching over us.
I know what you mean, I get taken back to his garden every time I see a rose bush
Aww Happy Birthday to your Papa.
My Gran helped to raise me and her Birthday sometimes falls on mothers day which is quite hard for me to celebrate as a result. Our loved ones will always be with us. I’m sure they hear us when we look up at the sky and send them our love. I also believe that a part of loved ones passed are in our children xx
Thank you, I agree, I believe that they are with me every day.
Lovely post. Happy Birthday to your Papa xx
Thank you, he was lovely, wish I had his green fingers too!
Lovely post x
Thank you, he was a lovely man, miss him loads
Oh Mary what a sad story but lovely memories of what sounds like a fantastic man x
He was wonderful, I think when you become a parent you just realise how totally magical grandparents are, and how valuable those memories are too.
Oh Mary, he sounds like such a wonderful man. Happy birthday to him.
He was lovely, I wish I could have known him as an adult, I have so many things I would have liked to ask him.
Beautiful post, really moving! Happy Birthday to your Papa! x
Oh thank you, he was a special man. I hope monkey grow up with the same kind of memories of his Gramps
What lovely memories. He sounds like a great man. It’s funny how things can remind us so much of someone isn’t it? xx
Yes, very true. He was wonderful as all grandfathers are I guess – very special man