When I hear “roses,” I don’t picture flowers but rather an old lady named Rose.
It makes me think of my grandma, even though her name wasn’t Rose (it was Jane). I was very close with her. We’d watch “The Lawrence Welk Show” together while we munched on her delicious homemade cookies. She encouraged me to draw, paint, write. We’d bird watch, which she loved, and every fall, she’d make big piles of leaves for me to jump in.
Sadly, when I was 12, she passed away. I was devastated. I had lost not only my grandma, but also my best friend.
She must have heard my cries. A few months after she died, she came to me in a dream. I saw her and felt this warmth washing over my body. She told me, “Everything will be fine. I’m watching over you.” And then she vanished. I never dreamt about her again.
Back then, I was an atheist, but because of my grandma’s visit, a seed of doubt was planted in my mind. Maybe there was an afterlife. Maybe there was a G-d.
Today, as an Orthodox Jewish convert, I’m sure of it. And I’m sure that when I pass (G-d willing, when I’m 120+), I will be happily reunited with my grandma. I will feel her warmth and experience her love. I’ll be reunited with my best friend.
