Smelling roses and falling into sink holes

While growing up I loved my late grandmother's flowers. They were beautiful. She could grow anything, and I can remember a few occasions when I took her plants I'd pretty much killed for her to revive.

A few years ago I started gardening and loved it. Then I changed jobs, my time became limited and my gardening suffered. I downgraded to my climbing roses, a rose tree, a mini rose bush and hanging baskets for my arbor.

I had also made a sitting area with a bench, a pot holding my mini rose bush and some sculptures. This area is where an oak tree used to be. When we moved in we had the tree cut and the stump gound. Now the area around where the stump was is sinking in. And now onto my feet ...

For years, I've had a continuing problem with my feet called plantar faceitia. I spent a year hobbling around because this condition had strained my Achilles. I had a procedure done in November and have been much better until ...

I stepped into the sinking hole. After pulling my left foot (my worst) out of the hole, I hobbled around screaming in pain and spat a few curse words. Then I sat down on my bench which started slowly sinking into the holes. I scrambled to get up and fell onto my butuckous. I then gave up, lay on the ground and started laughing hysterically.

I looked at the beautiful sky. I could smell my roses and was grateful that I'd found something in life that I shared with my grandmother. I know she's in heaven, and I wondered if she was laughing at me.

Eventually, I pulled myself together and realized a few of my neighbors who were also working in their yards were laughing. I slowly pulled myself up, waved at them showing that I was okay and limped toward the front door.

As I passed my climbing roses I smelled them once again and said, "Hello Mawmaw."