I, Anonymous: One Perfect Rose

by Anonymous STEVEN WEISSMAN
You, a blurry guy-shaped person (I didn't have my glasses on), handed me a yellow rose as I walked my dog at 5:30 on a Thursday morning. You couldn't have known that I had just awoken from a heartbreaking dream in which my grandmother died in my arms. I had just visited her the previous weekend as she and my grandfather struggled to adjust to health problems and an imminent move to assisted living. I had been carrying the dual heavy weights of love and pain in my hea