Roses or lace it is the same when it comes to cutting into one or the other, an agonizing decision for me to make.
How can I make a curtain, if I don't cut the lace?
How can I make rose jam, if I don't cut the roses?
Standing under the cascade of roses in our courtyard, I held up the clippers and faced the challenge.
I remember Annie telling me that shaking the rose bush and gathering the fallen petals was not how it was done. "They need to be cut fresh by mid-morning before they release their morning perfume."
My hands could not make the clipper move while I stood in awe under the roses drinking in their fragrance.
The thought of rose jam had no power over me.
Then without warning or thoughtful direction, my mind wandered towards a memory long ago:
My father was sitting on the couch, I was sitting behind him. He turned around and looked right at me with great concern, "Corey, do you truly love Yann that much, that you are willing to give up your life in San Francisco and move to France? Think about it, you are leaving everything behind: Your home, your family, your work, your friends, your lifestyle... your language... Giving up everything like Jesus, for the sake of love."
I remember laughing, "Like Jesus? That is an extraordinary example isn't it?"
He looked at me, not sharing the humor, and then I saw his loving concern:
Could I make the cut?
I remember thinking that if I thought of it, weighed it out like my father was saying, I would never be able to say yes to Yann.
Instead I took a leap of faith, I followed my heart, and later I realized the depth of my decision.
There were times I regretted leaving my family, times where the cut was a fresh wound, times I wondered why I ever moved away, and over time have come to see that is only natural to feel those (these) feelings. Love is never cut and dry. It is an ongoing adventure, a journey made safe by having faith in love's ways.
Then as suddenly as that memory came up, it slipped away.
The roses remained staring me in the face.
The clipper in hand.
Annie was looking at me as I traveled back to the moment at hand, "Alors?"
The first cut, as they say, is the deepest, and for me, it has healed.