Flowers For Albert

The first flowers I ever remembered were those GLADIOLAS my Gramps dropped off at our house weekly. I asked my Mom, "Why does he always bring the same flowers? Are they your favorite?" She didn't want to answer that question because, little did I know, my Gramps played the organ at funerals. Oh...I get it know! I guess we all have favorite flowers. I'm an Iris man myself. I don't know what that says about me. I find them to be 'complicated' looking flowers with a lot of detail...so, if I made that into a flower 'palm' reading I guess that makes me a complicated man who observes 'details'?? But, I'm not one of those people who reads my horror scope daily. A rose is a rose, is a rose? I don't think so. I've seen roses that cause the iris in my eyes to bloom. Seriously, there are some wicked roses out there! I heard that different colours are symbolic of different 'emotions'. Like, the red rose is obviously 'love'. It's the Valentine flower...it's the flower lovers usually give to one another and it's that stupid flower they hand out on that reality show, 'The Bachelor'.

Wedding bouquets can be made of multiple flowers or just one big blossom. My Mom did that..she had this huge flower that was made of petals. I thought it was a Lily Pad at first but she snapped at me that it was made specifically for the Wedding. Well, stick a thorn in my side!

My 'other mother', the Step-Mom chose different flowers for her wedding to my father... she picked DAISIES! Oh lord, did she pick them. I think she harvested them herself. I've never seen so many daisies in one small Church. During the service a few people were sneezing (pollen?) and the little flower girl was ripping them out of her hair,off of her dress and picking them out of her Huggies. My Stepmother was standing up front all decked out in a hat that went on forever and on that hat was a FLOAT OF DAISIES. It was like Doris Day had come into my family!

I work with special needs clients...developmentally challenged is politically correct now. I have this one client who picks 'Dandelion flowers' every year and puts them in a little plastic cup in his room. Of all the flowers in vases, at Weddings, Valentines or in gardens...this touches me the most. He's autistic and he just beams when he puts his 8 perfect Dandelions in that old scratched up cup. Very little it takes to bring joy to such a kind man.

I have a very tiny garden. I never was one to care much about growing flowers as I still would rather be a farmer with a field full of milking cows. But, it is what I have..as small mini-patio. I have turned it into the smallest HANGING GARDEN OF BABYLON ...and, I am proud of this. I go out every morning with my hands on my hips and just 'sigh' with joy! Budding Christmas cactus mid-August...go figure!

Flowers represent so much. I remember the flowers laid out for Princess Diana after her death...endless bouquets set carefully in front of her picture...hundreds of flowers to show we care. And petals.... dropped into bathtubs to romance your mate or just to feel beautiful if it's only for one night. Flowers wrapped around telephone poles or on crosses along the highway to honour loved ones who left too soon, and too tragically.

Songs about flowers.... 'The Rose', so beautiful we melt when it comes on the radio. I don't think we'd hear a song about Thistles but I personally find them to be 'complex and unique' but again, that's my flower 'taste'. And buds..what about buds. Don't you just love the stages before the 'full frontal attack' when the flower is capsulized in 'the bud'. Even dying flowers are beautiful. Wilting with grace, petals falling to the ground and shuffled in the wind. I love the blossoms from the Cherry trees that cascade all over the streets, painting them pink ...making us LOOK and once again, sigh, because it is quite a sight.

There are flowers sold at booths along country roads. Children in their straw hats and sneakers who have plucked Mom's garden clean to make money since the lemonade stand got shut down due to by-laws! And there are flowers at gravesides after a quite visit. An offering to show our love, to remember, to make that place of rest meaningful.

People wear flowers for fashion..the hats with flowers attached, the boutonniere on suits, the floral dress reflecting a woman's love for bright colours and pretty prints. Hippies probably represented flowers best in our culture...FLOWER POWER and all it stood for 'Peace'...imagine?

Hanging baskets line streets to enhance their look, to add some 'nature' to our concrete jungles that are quickly sucking up the land and suffocating roots. We need the flowers, plants, trees to know we are not destroying everything on our path.

But, I still go back to my client, Albert, who puts those Dandelions in his scratched, plastic cup. He just stares at 'the beauty' of the yellow flower we put under our chins like the buttercups to see if we liked Butter or not. And, when anyone came into his room he would smile politely and say, "don't touch!"... To him, they are perfection and I believe they are. So, do we take time to stop and smell the flowers, to look at the bee collecting it's nectar, to watch the blossoms swirl in the wind. I hope so. There is beauty and then , there is beauty!