The Power of Flowers

September 17th, 1998, I was 16 years old! Most kids my age were sitting around studying for their Geometry test, or better yet, gearing up for Friday's football game. As for me, well, let's just say that I was gearing up for something else entirely--Motherhood! That's right, folks! In a few short hours, I would become a teenage mom to one and a statistic to others. While I will not boggle you down with the intricate details of my life throughout those years, I will leave you with the most important facet of my life during that time...my newborn baby was born with several disabilities which rendered her a quadriplegic and blind. Before she turned one year old, her physician declared that she would not survive past 3 years of age. So there we were Bri age ten months, and me now 17 years old, with an uphill battle to climb.

I remember so vividly at both her birth and prognosis feeling as though the walls were closing in on me. Everything was so desolate...so bleak during her first few years. Retrospectively, I think the stress of it all was in waiting for those 3 years...1,095 days to pass. But when those days came and went and my daughter, the fighter, was still alive and kicking, it was then that I decided that WE would start living. And live we did!

I found a modest two-bedroom, income-based apartment at Rainbow Apartments for a mere $88.00 a month. While I didn't have much money at the time, I owned my 1991 Volvo outright, and I was able to use a portion of my Pell Grant refund check to purchase two queen-sized beds, a faux leather sofa, dinette, laptop computer, desk, and a small 24-inch television to furnish the place. Again, it was not much, but it was a start--our start!

While there was peace, for the most part, in that haven of ours, something was amiss, and that thing was color and positive energy.

One day, while we were driving around town, I saw a man exit the now "closed" JC Floral Warehouse with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers you ever did see. "That's it," I thought! So I pulled over into the car lot, placed my daughter into her wheelchair and we waltzed right into that shop where we were both met by the kindest, little lady this side of heaven. It was there, in that small shop that we were given our first lesson on hydrangeas, roses, tulips, and orchids. She spoke endlessly about floral arrangements and color palettes, and practically gave me my first pair of pruning shears. I cannot recall her name, but I do know that I left that floral shop inspired to embrace and begin a new craft.

Whether you know it or not, that florist gifted me with a newfound way to beautify my world and create the type of happiness in my surroundings that I longed to thrive in for myself, my family, and others.

Seeing the gentleman with the bouquet, meeting the florist, and listening to her priceless, invaluable lessons on "floral education" and pruning shears was a clear sign to me that in the midst of all of my chaos, we were not alone. Even though Bri and I faced so many challenges throughout those years, we were able to move beyond them and create so many beautiful masterpieces together. She lived to be 21 years old! Even though she never got the chance to hold a pair of scissors for me or arrange the flowers in the vase, I know each project came with her stamped approval. I placed my best friend in her chair at the start of each project. She'd smile and laugh infectiously at each snip of wire or stem that I made with my scissors. Her laugh was an agreement that the work was grand...sort of like how a friend nods in agreement at the fit of dress or change of color in the hair, and I hung on to those sounds for they were her words to me. Words comprised of a language that we both understood.

Even though she is no longer with me, and JC's Floral Warehouse is permanently closed, I am always reminded of how impactful they each were in my life and in helping me hone my craft. I am forever indebted and eternally grateful to them all for teaching me that happiness can come from any situation...even from the greatest pain...the silver lining is all in your perspective.