When people think of roses, they think of the ruby red common flower that loved ones get for you when you are getting an award or on a holiday, most commonly on Valentines Day. They think of those big bouquets with lots of red roses and maybe other flowers mixed in. In a more spiritual perspective, you might think of love and prosperity. Or maybe you think of the common rose tattoo that lots of people have. If you watched Disney when you were little, you might think of the enchanted rose from Beauty and the Beast.
Roses have always been my favorite flower, ever since I was born or even before I was in my mom’s womb I was meant to be a lover of roses. When my parents were picking out my middle name, it was rose, just rose. Once I was born, my dad loved the middle name Summer as well, so they combined them. Amelie Summer Rose. It was love at first sight for my parents, the look of my name, the sound of it, it was perfect. All of my baby pictures were taken with some sort of rose in it– either my onesie had roses on it, or there were roses in the background.
When I was growing up and lived in Denver, we would come down to Salida and visit my mom’s grandparents’, my great grandparents’, house. In the backyard, we would do a number of fun things, but there was always one bright pastel color that your eye would directly go to as soon as you walked to the backyard: pastel yellow roses, it was the color of the dress Belle wears in Beauty of the Beast. These flowers brought a lot of memories. When my parents got divorced and we actually moved into my great grandparents house, I would go outside with my stuffed animals and snacks in the summer and sit under this big oak tree we used to have and just admire all these yellow roses sprouting all over my backyard around the fence. When my stepdad, Ryan, started hanging out with my mom, I went into the backyard with him one summer evening and I grabbed a cupful of yellow petals and made trails with him all around the backyard playing follow the leader (the leader being me of course). I feel bad now because I know afterward he had to go and pick all of them up so he could mow the lawn, but that memory will stick in my head forever and always.
When we moved to Salida, I continued to do dance. I did dance in kindergarten year in Denver and wanted to still do it. When I say continue, I mean I did it one other year in kindergarten when we lived in Denver, but doing dance here was a lot different. There wasn’t really a class for ballet that was just my age group like the one I did in Denver. Most of the girls were a year or two older than me, which was intimidating. I would have to toughen up and act more mature then what I was used to because I was in the intermediate class when I felt like I should have been in the beginners. The beginner class had kids who were a year or two younger than me, though, so I would feel out of place either way. Through all the mental and physical work of going to ballet class every monday from five to six as a seven year old, it was a huge accomplishment to finally have the recital. Recitals would always take place in the SHS auditorium. I would do the dance routine and feel so pretty with my matching tutu that all the other girls in that routine had. Afterwards, I would run out to my parents and grandparents, who had two new big bouquets of roses waiting for me. My grandma would always make me go on stage and pose with my new roses in some sort of ballet pose that I could think of off the top of my head. Then I would get home, put them in water with a vase and admire them. My reward for all those Monday night practices.
Roses for me are my comfort, my way of seeing love and proudness. Roses will always be my favorite flower, even if people call it basic because part of me has such a big connection with this ruby red flower. I am Amelie Summer Rose Patton.
