When Dan was out and about running errands or grocery shopping, he'd pick up roses if he saw my favorite colors of peach, pink, or yellow. When he got home he'd ring the door bell. I'd open the door and there he'd be, with his hand behind his back. He'd bring them out with a flourish and say "For you, my love." Such a romantic, even after ten years.

One day he came home with roses that were both pink and yellow. When they were almost past I laid them out on the porch to dry so I could photograph them. This one was lovely from every angle, despite being dry and "yellowed". Like true love.