Grandpa George loved flowers. More specifically, he loved to grow flowers. In the summer, he grew gladiolas, snap dragons, zinnias, dahlias, asters, in every color of the rainbow. But the pride and joy of my grandfather’s flower garden were the roses. There were long stemmed, clusters, white, red, peach, pink, lavender, and yellow. They lined the perimeter of the little patch of lawn we had at the back of our house. He tended to those rose bushes like they were his children.