The other day I was sitting in the fancy, brand spanking new, studio arts building (whose concrete steps are already cracking (shame on them) which made me think of my brothers-in-law who would never have allowed that to happen...). Anyway, I was sitting there in the sunshine, waiting for my class to begin and rereading articles, when I thought to myself, I should write a letter. To someone. I used to do that frequently, just a few short years ago. But wait, who will I write to? Rose, I thought, I will write to Rose. Honestly, I thought that, for a millisecond. It's like a habit- a muscle memory, these reactions I have to tell her something. To reach out to her. And, of course I could write to Rose. But I can't send it to her. She is not on this earth, in human form.
But those links below will lead you to her voice and her tremendous love story. I have the links but I can't bear to listen right now.
Rose on NPR#1- woman finds love in spite of herself
#2- one last love
P.S I know it is not Valentines Day yet, but I am in no position to assume that I will have time tomorrow to do anything so...