Red roses were her favorites, her names was also Rose. And every year her husband sent them, tied with pretty bows. The year he died, the roses were still  26  to her door.

Each year he sent her roses, and the  27  would always say, “I love you even more this year, than last year on this day.” My love for you will always  28  , with every passing year. “She knew this was the last time  29  the rose would appear. Her loving husband did not know that he would  30  . he always liked to do things early. Then, if he got too busy,  31  would work out fine.”