Red Velvet: The Forgotten Ones

Welcome to Sacred Musings, a space where I share reflections from the heart on love, life, caregiving, and the lessons that shape us into who we are. My hope is that these words bring comfort, perspective, and inspiration to anyone walking their own path of healing and growth.

I once cared for a patient in San Francisco who lived alone in a small row house. He was on hospice and, because of his reputation for being harsh and unkind, had no one left to care for him but his hospice team. His only daughter refused to visit. At the end of his life, he was solely dependent on us for his comfort and companionship.

One day, as I sat with him, we talked about love. He admitted his regrets, how he had no wife, no girlfriend, no reconciled relationship with his daughter. He spoke of how rejection can both crush the spirit and free it. It can show us that we can go on and live the life we were meant to live, but it also leaves a hollow space, a reminder of what could have been.

He asked me for Burger King that day, a hamburger, some fries, and a strawberry milkshake. He could barely eat, but it wasn’t really about the food. It was about the gesture. The simple act of being thought of, cared for, remembered. He sipped that milkshake with a quiet joy that filled the room.

His words and his loneliness reminded me of a poem I once wrote about the ache of wanting to be loved, to be cherished, and to not be forgotten. I share it here in his honor, and for all of us who have felt unseen in love:

Red Velvet: The Forgotten One

I wanted to be your friend, your confidant, the rose you held gently in your hand.

I saw you as my earth your soil, rich and full of promise, gave me life.

From your depths, I grew, my petals a deep, velvety red, my fragrance a gift to your senses.

Even when the winds of your indifference howled, I found a way to bloom.

The earth caught me each time I fell, cradling me, helping me rise again.

But your disdain was relentless. My petals, once soft and vibrant, burned under the heat of your neglect.

You laughed as I withered, wished for my end. Yet, even in my ruin, the world saw beauty a raw, honest kind of beauty. My dried fragrance lingered, whispering of resilience,

of love that could not be crushed.

I only wanted to be your friend. My name is Rose. Don’t you recognize me?

The sweet soul whose essence stayed long after she floated away.

I am the flower of love, the healer of broken hearts, the silent witness to whispered confessions and fleeting moments of joy. For millennia, I have given my all, spreading love, mending what was torn, making the world just a little more beautiful.

But when all is said and done, who will love me?

Who will gather my petals and tend to my roots?

Reflection

Relationships aren’t easy. They challenge us not just with another person’s flaws, family, and history, but with ourselves. They hold up a mirror, asking us who we really are when faced with love, rejection, and vulnerability.

This patient’s story, and my poem, remind me that love is both fragile and enduring. Even when it fades, its essence lingers, like the fragrance of a rose, long after its petals fall.

✨ Sacred Musings by Sacred Heart Nursing — stories and reflections from the bedside, where compassion meets truth.