By Bernard Bujold -
My father loved flowers and trees. He surrounded his Gaspesie home with many varieties of trees and he embellished the garden with many flowers including roses.
My mother would pick these roses during the summer to make homemade honey, according to a recipe passed down from her own mother.
Recently, during a bike ride, I came across a rose garden that reminded me of the roses of my childhood and my parents in Gaspésie.
Today in 2021, the trees and roses no longer exist in front of the Gaspesian house but my memory
remains...
Who said that the memory of roses is eternal?
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