Happy Mother’s Day – Feb. 8, 1930 – Jan. 27, 2005 My Mother A Rose A rose so rare, one of it’s kind, love and beauty a mother, yes! A rose without thorns, not a petal was torn, a perfect rose stood straight and tall our mother was the most precious of all. A rose that survived the worst kind of weather and yet the most delicate ever, a rose with fragrance, there could be no other, you see this rose is our Mother. A rose is picked and put to dry, the beauty is still there, it never dies. Miss you, dearly. Love, Shirley, Donnie, David and Kim