Aunt Lizzie's rose

Day by day here in September, I'm watching a rosebud open.  This is a rose Mom gave me, which she rooted from a plant my Aunt Lizzie gave her.  My Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Glenn lived in the old homeplace after Grandpa and Grandma passed on.  I have so many fond memories of visiting there.  Porch sitting was a frequent past time at the old homeplace, and often when I'm on my own porch my mind goes back there.  I might imagine the bucket of drinking water sitting on the shelf or the way the sun reflected from the water to make a moving pattern on the ceiling.  I might think of Grandpa's shaving mirror hanging on the wall or my uncle reading a Louis L'amour novel.
I like having this rose as a tangible connection to that old homeplace and my Aunt Lizzie.