We worked side by side in silence, digging the hole before planting the rose with loving care. It was impossible to refrain from crying as the moment felt so permanent. Kelsey and I leaned against one another, sobbing as we gazed down on what we had done and hoped Connie would approve. I knew my wife’s ashes would blossom into the loveliest plant ever; I just wished she could be there with us to see it bloom and grow.
Over subsequent weeks both Kelsey and I spent a great deal of time around the patio, showering attention on the little plant. When one of us was not tending it, the other surely was. At times I felt guilty clipping flowers off its delicate branches, but I knew my wife would have loved to display the blooms on our kitchen table.
I had been having an internal debate with myself as to just what to do with my wife’s shop. I wanted to keep Everything’s Coming Up Roses open as a tribute to Connie, but was unsure how I could do it with my own full-time job. Kelsey had graduated from college and had been having trouble finding work, and she came to me just weeks after the funeral with a plan: She wanted to take over running the store and asked for my approval. I could not have been happier.
Kelsey had helped her mom for years and pretty much knew the operation like the back of her hand, so she was superbly qualified to take charge of Everything’s Coming Up Roses. My wife had always run it exclusively as a flower shop, but our daughter wanted to make it more of a gift shop, utilizing the marketing skills she had learned in college.
While Kelsey transformed the shop dramatically, I could still feel her mom’s presence there. I’m sure Connie would have been proud of the changes her daughter made, and customers seemed to appreciate the changes, as well. Business was as good as it had ever been at Everything’s Coming Up Roses.
I found myself often leaving work early so I could visit the shop to check in on my daughter’s progress. It was also a way of reconnecting with my wife while continuing to support the direction Kelsey was taking the store. I hate to admit it, but at times I became aroused looking at my daughter in that setting. I was constantly flooded by images of my wife as I watched my daughter move around Everything’s Coming Up Roses. They were so similar; I felt both a longing for my wife and a love for my daughter that was hard to differentiate.
Kelsey and I had always been affectionate, but since we learned of Connie’s cancer, we had become even more so. It seemed we could not go ten minutes without hugging one another, which filled my heart with joy. We had been through a lot, and had grown to lean on one another for support. As much as I tried to keep my hugs completely platonic, it was hard to hold the spitting image of my wife in my arms without feeling a strong attraction and like I was somehow depraved.
My daughter always gave me a warm greeting and would proudly fill me in on the events of the day, particularly any large sales. During one of our long conversations, Kelsey admitted that Connie had shared our secret about making love in the shop on Valentine’s Day. I was a bit embarrassed, but Kelsey thought it was the most romantic thing she had ever heard.
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