by Roger Nash
As is often the case with wonderful stories, the
story of the birthday rose begins and ends with an act of caring
love but contains terrible tragedy along the way.
The story begins on Saturday, May 8, 1999, the day before
Mother's Day. Our seventeen-year-old son, Justin, was at
Wal-Mart trying to pick out a present for his mom. Our thirteen
year-old, Bryan, had already had his gift purchased and wrapped.
Justin remembered mom saying that she wanted to get some
rosebushes for the backyard, so he thought that a live plant
might be something that she would be able to enjoy for many
years to come. He picked out a unique, old-fashioned rosebush
called "First Light." He liked it because it was different from
most modern roses, having only five petite petals per bloom. On
the way to the checkout, he saw a friend from church and asked
her if she thought that his mom would like the rosebush for
Mother's Day. When she told him that she thought it was the
perfect gift, he felt that he had made the right choice.
Tami's Mother's Day was very pleasant. As was our custom,
Justin, Bryan and I made lunch for her after church. I fixed the
spaghetti and sauce, Justin "created" the salad, and Bryan made
the garlic bread. After lunch we all gave her our presents. The
rosebush was temporarily placed out on the deck. Tami wanted to
pick just the right place for it, so some research was needed
before she planted it.
The boys had just finished another school year and were
beginning to plan their summer. Justin had been invited to go to
Gatlinburg with his friend Josh Beddingfield. Josh lived with
his aunt, Connie Beddingfield, and both attended church with us.
Connie had planned the trip to celebrate the end of school for
Josh. Josh asked if Justin could go with them. Connie agreed and
invited a close friend, Jeannine Crawford to go with her.
Although in her seventies, Jeannine could always be counted on
to be the "life of the party" and Connie knew that Jeannine
would help make the trip a fun adventure for the two teenage
boys.
Justin spent the next several days looking forward to the trip.
Tami wanted Justin to help her plant the rosebush before he
left, but the exact spot had not been decided on yet, so they
agreed to wait until after the Gatlinburg trip to plant it.
On Monday, Connie stopped to pick up Jeannine and then came over
to our house. Tami asked for a phone number of where they would
be staying and Jeannine reluctantly gave it to her, teasingly
telling her that they did not want any phone calls while on
their vacation.
They had a great time visiting Dollywood and seeing all the
sights around Gattlinburg. Everyone was worn out and ready to go
home (except Jeannine, of course) as they started on their
return trip.
It was the Thursday before Memorial Day weekend and we had
planned to leave Friday morning to take our boys on a short
trip. I was in the garage when I heard the doorbell ring. It was
about 8:30 P.M. and I heard Tami call out that Justin must be
home a little early. I next heard Tami calling me to the front
door. On our front porch stood two deputies. They asked if they
could come in. Once they were inside they asked us to sit down.
There are moments in a person's life that are so indelibly
etched into memory that the very recollection of the event
causes the same emotions and feelings that were present at the
time to resurface. The moment a parent is told that their child
is dead is such a moment. I not only remember the pain; I feel
the same emptiness and agony each time I recall that night.
They could not tell us much except that there had been a wreck
and that Justin had been killed. Tami kept telling them that
there had to be a mistake, but they kept responding that there
was no mistake. They were trying to be very kind, but there is
no way to deliver such news gently. There is nothing that you
can say to prepare someone for that type of news. The visit was
very short; I asked them to leave as soon as I could see that
they had no other information to give us. I did not mean to be
rude, but I could not bear to have any strangers in my home as
the weight of what they had just told us sank in. A short time
later I called friends from church and it was not long before we
had a house full of loving people sharing our grief.
We soon learned that Connie, Josh, and Jeannine had also been
killed. We learned that they were on the interstate just south
of Knoxville when, due to road construction, they came to a stop
behind a flat-bed truck loaded with steel. As they were waiting
for the traffic to move, another truck hit them from behind. The
Dodge mini-van was crushed between the two trucks to less than a
third of its original size.
The next few days were a blur. We were surrounded by friends and
family and were helped with every detail of the arrangements of
the funeral and the other things that had to be done. We were,
and continue to be, humbled by the many acts of kindness that
were directed towards us. I believe that God uses many different
ways to comfort His children. Sometimes He sends people to be
his helping hands on this earth; the urge that someone feels to
make that encouraging phone call at just the right time is no
coincidence. Sometimes God may open your eyes to see His hand in
nature in ways that you would not have noticed before. Our
challenge is to be willing to give God the credit for the
comforting things that happen and not be tempted to explain them
away as a coincidence.
The rosebush that Justin gave to Tami for Mother's Day has come
to be a symbol of God's care for my family. As you can imagine
the rosebush became even more important to Tami after Justin's
death. She wanted to do everything she could to insure that it
survived. We carefully planted it in a small corner garden that
could be seen from our living room window.
As the days and weeks passed, the rosebush started showing signs
of new life. A few green sprouts emerged and grew into branches
with lush green leaves. In a way, it was symbolic of our life
after Justin's death. The days were still almost unbearable, but
there were signs of growth and healing. We knew that life would
continue to be hard, but we were convinced that God had a
purpose for our loss and were determined to learn what it was.
We pray every day for God to comfort us and show us that He is
with us.
During the first week of August 1999, we noticed a single small
bud forming on the rosebush. Tami was very excited because she
had been hoping that by some chance Justin's rosebush would have
roses on it for her birthday, which was on Sunday, August the
8th. But time was running out and we did not see any way that a
rose could form in the few days that remained till her birthday.
She looked at that little bud everyday hoping for some
miraculous growth, but by Saturday night there was still only
the one very tiny rosebud.
The first thing that Tami did on Sunday morning was go outside
to the garden and check on Justin's rose. As soon as she came
back into the house I could tell that something wonderful had
happened. With tears rolling down her checks, she told me that
she had gotten a present from Justin. She took me by the hand
and led me outside to show me the beautiful small pink rose that
had opened on the rosebush. We just held each other as we felt
the comfort of Justin's love sweep over us.
It seems like everywhere Tami looks, pink roses show up to
comfort her. Just a few weeks ago, while in the mall, she passed
a seating area where Justin would meet her after shopping. She
just had to look, hoping that he would be waiting there for her.
Fighting back the tears, because she knew of course that he
would never be there again, her eyes were drawn to a display
that featured an exquisite pink crystal rose. She walked over
and saw that the rose was mounted on a base that had an
inscription on it. Picking up the rose, she read the message. It
said, "I'll love you always, Mom." She quietly said, "Thanks
Justin, I'll love you always too."