|Subject||A rose by any other name...|
|DateCreated||3/17/2007 11:51:00 AM|
|PostedDate||3/17/2007 11:47:00 AM|
|Body||As some of you may know, Justin (my eldest) and I have a tradition of giving each other roses under glass.
It all started when he was in kindergarten, and for Christmas, he bought me a small red silk rose in water under glass at the dollar store. I thought it was the most beautiful gift, so meaningful, and I wanted to have it near me when he wasn't around, so I brought it to the office. I worked at Air Canada at the time.
I showed it off to everybody, I was so proud, but unfortunately, as these things go, the rose was broken in an accident. I was heartbroken.
A few years later, my parents brought Justin and Frances to Disney world, and while there, Justin came across a glass rose under glass in the gift shop, a replica of the one seen in Beauty and the Beast. While browsing, he had picked up the biggest one they had ($50USD) and the saleslady, seeing his age, and assuming he'd have a small budget, offered him the smaller version, at $25USD. He told her that no, he wanted the larger one, saying "My mom is worth it". That was most of the spending money we had sent him down there with.
Being a mom is apparently a thankless job, but I couldn't say that, not with kids like I have. It's hard, but moments like those, and the joy and love I felt when he gave it to me are more than enough to make up for whatever pain I've had to go through to earn them. It's all forgotten in an instant. That glass rose was one of my most treasured posessions, one of the few I have left.
I say was, because this morning, as I walked into my room, I found the cat's fat ass sitting on my nighttable, and my treasure on the floor. The glass bell is still intact, but inside, instead of a perfect glass rose, I have a stem, and shattered pieces of red and green glass.
I was watching a documentary on Nietzsche this week, where he explores the necessity of pain in achieving joy.
I can't tell you how devastated I was at the destruction of my little treasure, but I'm comforted by the fact that the pain I feel is equal to the joy I felt at receiving it...... and how thankful I am that I ever felt that way at all.
For those of you who'd like to see it, it's prominently featured in the closing credits of the last episode of Anterockstar.
My in-laws feel terribly that it's broken, and have offered to try and fix it, but I don't want it fixed.... it'll never be the same anyways, and perhaps that's how it's meant to be...