"I'm Still Just a Kid in a Flower Garden"

My earliest memories with flowers are in my Grandmother’s rose garden, a small plot of roses in her front yard in Garden Grove, California.

Each year she would look over rose catalogs and pick a new variety to add to her collection. My Grandfather had the job of planting and caring for the roses. He was a meticulous gardener, keeping a well manicured lawn and flower beds, so much so that my grandparents’ frequently won the city’s award for the “Best Front Yard”.

I loved to spend time in my Grandmother’s garden, smelling and admiring the beauty of the roses. I would often ask if I could pick some. She always answered with, “just one”—she never let me pick a whole bouquet. She preferred to have a single rose in a bud vase that sat on the kitchen window sill, leaving the other roses on the plant for display. I often asked to buy my Grandmother a bouquet of flowers on the drive over to her house, wanting to express my love for
her through the flowers she loved, but my Mom and I always decided that she had plenty of flowers in her garden.

Looking back, I see that my Grandmother’s garden was the start of my lifetime love of flowers. When she passed, my husband and I planted thirteen rose bushes in our backyard in her memory. And I have often found myself expressing my love for others through flowers, driving to the LA Flower Market and creating floral arrangements for the funerals and weddings of friends and family.

Unlike my Grandmother, I can never get enough flowers. In my own garden, I always pick enough for a large bouquet—one is never enough for me. Recently, I was able to extend my own garden and grow the flowers for my daughter’s wedding myself, creating one bouquet after another with my family. Now we are embarking on a new adventure: expanding my garden into a farm, where I will get to make bouquets alongside my own daughters and granddaughter and share the love of flowers with more people than ever.

Love,
Shelly
2022