On Mother’s Day in 2001, we laid my mother to rest. She was buried with a corsage of white roses on her jewel-toned blouse. In the south on Mother’s Day we wear a red rose if your mother is living, and a white one if your mother has passed. Mother’s Day was on the 13th that year, just like today.
I haven’t worn a Mother’s Day rose since the year before when, through pure happenstance, I was with her. I wore a red rose on my dress to the services at Ohio Valley Church that morning. Little did I know it would be my last chance to wear a red rose.
When I bought my first house a few months after her death, I planted a rose bush in front – a white rose bush.
I will never have reason to wear another Mother’s Day rose. My mother is gone, and I am not a mother. But, I’m so glad Mama had one last Mother’s Day corsage.