Flowers Remind Me Of My Mother

 

 

 I often go walking in meadows of clover,
And I gather armfuls of blossoms of blue.
I gather the blossoms the whole meadow over;
Dear mother, all flowers remind me of you.

O mother, I give you my love with each flower
To give forth sweet fragrance a whole lifetime through;
For if I love blossoms and meadows and walking,
I learn how to love them, dear mother, from you.

Words: Phyllis Luch, 1937–1995. © 1969

 

I do not typically do flowers, but Mother has been on my mind so much, and I think bringing in the potted Poinsettia actually compounded it.  It feels “Motherly” somehow because she always brought in a potted Poinsettia at Christmas time.   We had vases of flowers every season.  Her garden was beyond beautiful and a real showpiece.  She has roses in water in rose bowls.  She cut her first daffodils and then her gladiolas, and then, come summer were her peonies.  And, I, in my stumbling way, have realized how like her I am about flowers. 

 

There is evidence that flowers strengthen memory.  I think this is because it fills the memory with more senses.  There are bright and beautiful colors, there is the fragrance, there are the petals forming their own world of beauty. And who do I see there?  My Mother.

 

Something about flowers, any time of year, but I find, especially, at Christmas gives me energy and freshness, joy, and hope of some kind, for something... not sure what... but hope.  It reminds me top thrive for as long as I can, and be beautiful in my own unique way, for as long as I can.  It reminds me to be natural with my looks and to be authentic with my feelings.  I might be a weed, but I am a glorious weed.

Flowers release the dopamine of winter for me.  Okakura Kakuzo says that “In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends.”  I love that.  Flowers do trigger a longing, of sorts, but a vibrant, joyful, memory-filled longing.  The winter doldrums in me fade away.

 

I am sure that First Woman, when she spied the first flower, ran and gathered some.  It has to be something in our ancient DNA that draws us to such.  It goes beyond me and my mother and my grandmother before her…and probably on up the line.  Flowers give us that grace, that dignity, that calm and peace, that ‘belonging to something and someone’ kind of feeling.

 

Is there a flower that specifically engages a memory for you?  Is there a plant smell that engages memory?  Is there a smell of a tree, a flower, a bath soap, a drawer liner, a sachet, that evokes memory for you?

 

©Carol Desjarlais 12.14.22