Bring My Flowers Now

I've always hated funeral flowers.

Which is strange because I, like my mother, love to garden and love flowers of all kinds.

It's the smell that does it for me. At the viewing and the funeral, the normally intoxicating perfume of flower becomes overwhelming to me. The sickly sweet smell begins it's attack with a itch of the eye that rapidly becomes a headache and sour stomach.

And that sour stomach became full on I'm going to blow chunks after reading about why people originally had flowers at funerals. It was to cover the smell of the decomposing body back when embalming wasn't such an advanced art.

Don't get me wrong. Everyone should be allowed to mourn and honor in their own way. If sending flowers to the funeral makes you feel good... then by all means send the biggest flowers you can.

But for me? Bring my flowers now.

Because flowers for the dead just seems wrong to me. The dead can't enjoy the flowers.

When my aunt was living with terminal cancer, Lil Bit INSISTED that she have fresh flowers in her house every week.

Momma's edict was to send her sister every color of the rainbow, every shape under the sun...to bring cheer and let her enjoy them while she can.

And when it was time to go she was surrounded by love, her sisters and flowers.

Now flowers have been added to my caregiving to do list along with food, medicine and a thousand other things. At times I feel Lil Bit draws more sustenance from the flowers than the food or medicine.

And while the names may escape her, the flowers have never failed to bring a smile to her face.

She marvels at the colors and variety. Remarks at the simple beauty of the lilies of the field. And always insists on helping as we put the bouquets into jars and vases and jugs.

Then carefully placed to spread their joy and perfume for the living.