Something I love about rose hips is that even after the flower has bloomed, withered, and died, there is still life with these little, round gems. They are still bright and still beautiful in their second life. It’s my mom’s birthday today. She passed a week before turning 59 so the whole first half of November is full of remembering her. As much as I miss her and as hard as it is, I rather like having the chance to celebrate her life. Even though the petals have withered and dropped away, I still see the beautiful remaining rose hips of her life in my life. They’re in my dad, in my sister, in my brothers, in our friends and family. Most of all, though, I see them in myself, because I am still influenced by my memories of her every single day. The rose hips of her life help me as I learn to be a better mom. They remind me to laugh often, especially when things are hard, disappointing, or sad. They show me how to love fully and fiercely. I no longer have the lovely perfume of her blooming petals right now and oh, how I miss them, but the rose hips give me hope I will see them again in a different season of eternity.