There are two beds of roses in the court yard of the Hospice House in Lancaster. The roses are an island of color and reliably circular form in the blazing heat and sunlight outside. Inside the Hospice House it’s cool and lovely with tasteful art on the walls, a fountain in the hallway off the lobby and heavy wooden doors on the rooms. “It’s like a resort spa in New Mexico,” David said, and when I emailed that to Marsie she said, “It’s too bad that we finally get to go to a resort when we are about to go to the biggest resort there is. Live life now!”
True that, Marsie. See the roses, appreciate the roses, smell the roses, even if it is too hot to be outside and get to the scent.
Grace Mattern 