These aren't roses, but they are a beautiful red. Do dreams tell us much? I think they can, especially if we have the same dream over and over again.
After the death of my father and grandmother within two weeks of each other I was plunged into the most difficult year of my life, but for my mother it was even more difficult; she had lost her own mother and husband of almost 40 years while her youngest son was on the other side of the world.
I saw red, and they were beautiful red roses, and a hand was lovingly arranging them while someone held this bouquet in their hand. As if it were a camera, the view began pulling back, and I saw that a woman was holding this giant bouquet of beautiful red roses, and she was wearing a festive dress - this was indeed a special occasion!
How happy I was for her, as I could then see she was wearing expensive high-heeled shoes like she always wore for special events, and I could hear majestic happy organ music flooding the room.
Now I could see more - it was a big church, and this lady, my mother, was standing at the front at the alter with her lovely bouquet of red roses. But wait, something is wrong..
the church is empty, and no one is standing at the alter - only a giant cross, and my mother is standing their crying buckets of tears flooding those red roses while the festive happy organ music plays on in this empty church.
This dream does not haunt me anymore.
The tears are gone, and now it is my turn to carry the roses and listen to the music.
