When I was a little girl, I would run through fields of dandelions making wishes as my tiny feet would sprint through the grass. The summer breeze on my skin would linger as I could smell the sweet scent of pine and lilies that I knew was temporary, but the smell felt eternal because of the memories that would resonate with them.
“What do you wish for?” my mom would always ask when I’d pull one out of the dirt and let my breath and the breeze allow the seeds fly through the air. “I can’t tell you, Mommy! Then it wouldn't come true!” I would say.
The first time I remember receiving flowers was on Valentine’s Day, and they were from my dad. I remember feeling so special because I received flowers just like my mother. I wanted to give someone flowers when I would fall in love, and one day my daughter who would feel the way I did in that moment.
My first memorable wedding, I remember the flower girl throwing white petals down the pathway of the bride and groom. I always wondered why there was such a thing as a flower girl, and then I came up with my own conclusion: flowers are beautiful, and love is a beautiful thing. Flowers may die, but true love doesn’t. That sure did make me happy to think about falling in love one day.
During my first high school dance, I remember wearing a yellow corsage around my wrist, and I was curious to know why men always wore boutonnieres and women always wore corsages. Then I thought that maybe it was because it represented that high school dances are special and only last so long, along with flowers, which don't last forever either. I remember putting my corsage in the freezer after my dances every time, just like the putting the memories in the back of my mind
The first time I ever received flowers from a person I dated was when I got in a fight with my ex-boyfriend, who bought them for me so that I would forgive him. Nothing ever felt the same anymore. Flowers didn’t really seem to symbolize love the way they did when I was a little girl. They were used as an excuse for forgiveness.
The first time I went to a funeral, I remember being surrounded by flowers that were not even real. I wondered why they weren’t real, and I realized that it’s because the funeral home probably couldn’t afford to buy fresh flowers for every person who died. They became a meaningless decoration.
I began to feel like flowers didn’t matter. Flowers die, and people only buy flowers for meaningless traditions and sometimes, even fake ones just because they brighten up a room. At the time, I didn’t realize it, but I just needed that person who would brighten up the room for me personally. I didn’t have that person quite yet.
Then the time came. I remember at college walking through the grass and dandelions and reminiscing about how I would always sprint through them when I was younger. I remember the wish I would always make that was so secretive to me too, which was to be happy. A few feet down the street, I remember looking at a gazebo we have on my campus and viewing a bouquet of flowers from a distance. I was expecting a surprise from my girlfriend at the time, but I was not expecting this. Along with one of my best friends, I got a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and she received one of her own. They each had customized notes on them that expressed the love our significant others have for us.
In this moment, I felt happy. I thought about how flowers are taken for granted, overused and used for pointless reasons, but once they are received from someone who brightens your life, they mean more. Flowers may die just like the smell of summer does as it changes to fall, but when you receive them from the people you love, they have a whole new meaning. Little did I know when I was a child that I would be surrounded by so much love and happiness; I have an entirely new perspective on flowers. I will always buy my loved ones flowers, just like my father.
