A Rose is not just a rose

Memories of Shaken Awake: marble table, Great Expectations file (Chapter 4), Shaken baby moi and the rose.

Did you know that the rose is one of the oldest flowers on Earth? Fossils dating back approximately 35 million years have been found, giving us a sense of just how long roses have been part of this planet’s story. Apparently, the magnolia may be even older — close to 90 million years old — which would make it older than Homo sapiens.

I have always had a fascination with roses. Maybe it's because I grew up in Montréal’s Rosemont neighbourhood. Or maybe it began with one of my earliest childhood memories: picking a single rose with my father, Guy, from our garden each week, every summer. Together, we would choose the loveliest one, avoid the thorns as best we could, and bring it inside for my mother to place in one of her vases.

That simple ritual stayed with me. It did not make me a gifted gardener, François would certainly confirm that, but it did make me a lifelong lover of roses.

Every spring, during my long writing-editing-producing-a-book process, roses appeared both figuratively and physically. In Shaken Awake, I tell the story on page 155 of sitting in the Town of Mount Royal with my friend Anne S. and learning about her own connection to roses. There were so many synchronicities around roses that, at one point, I wanted to make my whole website rose-coloured and rose-inspired. I even considered the picture above for my book cover. Honestly, when I saw the results, they were pretty tacky. In the end, I kept only a delicate gold rose outline on my website. See if you can find it.

So why am I telling you my rose story today, in my second blog post?

Because, for me, beyond synchronicities, the rose has become a symbol of love and transformation : in nature, and inside myself.

A rose knows how to transform without guidance, as all plants and trees somehow do. But symbolically, it does something else for me. It invites me out of my head and into my heart.

A rose is like a spiral. You look into it, and each time, a new angle, a new fold, a new point of view is revealed. Some wild roses reveal themselves quickly: almost opening and closing in a single day. Others last much longer, releasing a scent that seems to tickle the senses and move us somewhere beyond thought.

Such beauty, for all the senses, somehow transcends the duality of flower and thorn.

Across civilizations, the rose has symbolized love, beauty, secrecy, purity, sorrow, devotion, and spirituality. But roses have also served many practical purposes beyond ornament. In the ancient Middle East and later in Asia, rose petals were distilled into rosewater for cooking, perfume, cleansing rituals, and medicine, making the flower both sacred and useful. In Ancient Rome and medieval Europe, roses marked status in gardens, flavoured foods and wines, and were used in remedies for digestion, skin care, and inflammation. Within Christianity, the rose became linked to the Virgin Mary and inspired the Rosary prayer. And, of course, I could go on.

This spring has been no different from other springs: flowers and roses have begun to show up again.

After I decided to share these thoughts with you, I found out that Corinne Asseraf, my launch partner at Galerie 203, was planning a vernissage called Primavera — an exhibition of floral works by the artists she represents. As I walked into the gallery, I was immediately drawn to a painting that featured a miniature rose, just like the one I had placed in my signature in the last newsletter after spending a good two hours choosing the “right” emoji.

Then, slowly, I felt myself transported into the universe of each of the twelve artists and their relationship to flowers. Speaking with a few of them, I was touched by how personal and unique their connection was to the flowers themselves, to the energy they emanate, and to the inspiration they carry.

And this brought me back to roses and Jacqui.

Mother’s Day seems to mark the beginning of flower-giving season: flowers, mothers, love. Jacqui used to say, “You don’t have to celebrate my birthday, but Mother’s Day is the most important day of the year. It reminds me of being a mother, the most meaningful role of my life.”

Now that I know more about the details of her journey, I understand that it was never only about being a mother. It was about the expression of love, the kind of love that flows through that role and that relationship.

A rose also reminds me of this precious love — a love that travels through generations, linking us to our parents, our grandparents, and all those who came before us. It opens a path toward something greater, inviting us to rediscover ourselves, one another, and the sacred thread that connects us all.

Happy Mother’s Day, Grandmother’s Day, Daughter’s Day, and Son’s Day.

May the beauty of the rose touch you in new ways this year.