I don't know exactly when Rose Season is, here in California, but I have a hard time remembering when it isn't. This variety seems to be especially prolific right now.
Rose is a multiple-meaning word. In addition to being a flower, it also happens to be a name. Specifically, it is a part of my name (the middle part). When I was a child, I was very proud of the fact that Rose had been my paternal grandmother's name, and that I had been named after her. Adele Rose.
Yet somehow, as children can do, I didn't like my name. Not so much the Rose part, but the Adele part. I found it daunting that people had difficulty remembering, or even pronouncing my unusual name (which was not, in fact, pronounced A-dee-lee). And since Rose was the name that generally got tacked to the end of Adele when I was in trouble ("Adele Rose, put down that book, and clean up your room!!"), it was lumped in there with my general name displeasure.
It was a very easy name to have fun with: Adelaware punch; The farmer and Adele. The all-time classic (from a beloved Uncle):
Adele Rose sat on a bee, and Adele Rose.
(Spoiler Alert: I absolutely love this one. Now.)
What I longed for in those days was a simple name, like Cathy/Kathy or Lynn. These were the two names most well-represented in the 3rd grade at my elementary school. So, it was at about that time (3rd grade) that I launched my campaign to change my name to Kathy Lynn. My mother, always the agreeable sort, said "Of course, honey! You can change your name to anything you'd like. Just as soon as you turn 18." (Well played, Mom.)
As you have likely figured out, by my 18th birthday, I had grown into my name, and learned to appreciate its unique qualities. Now, I'm proud of it. Lately, I've even experienced feelings of possessiveness, when people learn my name and say "Oh, like the Adele. The singer!" Um... No... I'm the Adele, thankyouverymuch.
So, today, on my 51st birthday, having been adjusting to my name since the 3rd grade, I'd like to thank my parents for their forethought in not naming me Kathy/Cathy Lynn. These are fine names, attached to some very wonderful people. But they're not me. I'm an Adele. Adele Rose. And I've learned to love my name as much as I love the people who gave it to me.