I took an appreciation for the horticultural field from my beloved Mama Chuy, from planting a seed in the ground to seeing some wither away for various reasons and seasons.
She would tell me stories as we toiled in the soil "Mama, why are these called amor de un ratito?" these roses like the morning sun. She responded they give us their love in the morning. When the sun goes down they go to sleep.
"Is that what happened to the rosebush over there?" No, that rosebush fell victim to a disease, she said.
"It was such a pretty flower, prickly but pretty. I wish it never had died."
"Well hijo, from that rosebush your papa and I learned how to take better care of all these roses here. We were prepare to better deal with the losses of other flowers."
"Mama, if I were a flower I don't want to be like the amor de un ratito, I want to be here all the times so I could give you and daddy all my love, day and night. (Spoken like a prophet.)