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The Bouquet of Life: Planting Seeds of Memories

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They’re a delicate, sweet flower that pop up in the spring. They’re a sign of warmer weather, a burst of color after the monochromatic gray of a long winter. They remind me of my sister. They remind me of celebrating her birthday in April, sometimes with strawberry shortcake, an ice cream cake or a dinner out. She is eight years older than I am and for many years was more of a second mom to me. Since I married and especially since I now have a child of my own, she’s more of a best friend than anything. I can call her in the middle of the night (if she hasn’t fallen asleep while putting one of her own little ones to bed) with questions about my daughter. I know if there is an emergency, such as when my daughter had to have surgery for pyloric stenosis at six weeks, Erin will be there. 

They are beautiful. They have delicate petals, with so many layers, all while being strong, sturdy and dependable year after year. They remind me of my Grandpa Ken. Especially the red ones. They remind me of his red flannel shirts, trips to Botanical Gardens in St. Louis, and Ted Drewes and his favorite butterscotch sundae. They remind me of his big, callused hands as he would raise them up when I walked in the door and say, “Hey, baby doll.” He knew how to scare us just enough into being good, but he also knew how to make us giggle at the drop of a hat. They remind me of his hats just resting on the top of his head, his pants that constantly looked too big for him. They remind me of the man I thought the world of. He was gentle, kind and incredibly loving. When I got married in June 2018, I carried pictures of loved ones who couldn’t be with me and sterling silver charms to represent them on my bouquet. My grandpa was there, along with a rose charm.

They are like bunches of cotton candy in the summertime. They have an almost whimsical feel to them, and they remind me of Dexter, Missouri, in the summer. That’s where my mom’s side of the family is from. They take me back to summer nights with crickets singing and fireflies looking like glitter in the night sky. I can still hear the train whistling as I lay my head down on my Aunt Ruth’s pillow. They remind me of fried okra, catfish (which I used to strongly dislike until recently), Dexter Bar-B-Que and Hickory Log. They remind me of antique shopping and peach picking. They remind me of the drive down to the bootheel where we’d have to stop and pick up a watermelon, presumably a black diamond. They take me back to times with my grandpa when we would go fishing and I would use a hot dog to lure a catfish because I didn’t want to hurt a worm and of course I would have him throw back the fish. Hydrangeas remind me of a time of innocence when everything seemed ideal and easy.

They are seemingly simple little flowers with white petals and yellow center. They have been at each of my childhood homes. When I was about four, my Grandma Shirley was battling leukemia. My mom was with her a lot, taking her to doctors’ appointments and going back and forth. Our neighbor had given my mom some daisies to plant. My mom put them off to the side, hoping she’d be able to get to them at some point. One day while she was gone with my grandma, I planted them in the front of the house in the flower bed. Daisies aren’t just a flower; they symbolize so much more. They are a bittersweet representation of life at the time. A time of hardship and loss and a time of renewed strength and vulnerability. We lost my grandma when I was five, but those flowers continued to bloom year after year. My mom dug up some of the daisies and took them to the next two houses we lived in. Now, when I pull into my mom’s driveway in the summer, I see them and I’m reminded of a sweet innocence, my grandma, my mom’s dedication to our family and so much more.

One day a flower, maybe a peony, a lilac or possibly ranunculus, will remind my baby girl of her mama. And one day, a delicate but strong little flower will remind me of my sweet girl.

Written by KRCG13 News Anchor: Meghan Lane

Meghan Lane is the evening anchor at KRCG 13. She is the longest-tenured female on-air talent at the station and has worn many hats at the station including morning anchor and interim news director. She has recently begun a series called Mom to Mom in which she focuses on the stories and challenges motherhood brings. She actively volunteers in the community through Big Brothers Big Sisters and several local nonprofits. Meghan is married to husband Daryl and is a new mom to her beautiful baby girl, Evelyn.