Any Time Flowers Blog

Peace, love, and harmony!

International Day of Peace.

When you first read that, the mind immediately conjures  scenes of battlefields and soldiers. The meaning can so much deeper, though. As individuals with our own complicated sets of relationships, we each have one, two, or many conflicts that harbour feelings of angst.

Small jelousies, angry arguments, or even stubborn differences of opinion can fester and poison for days, weeks, and years. They can add toxicity to every action or thought that, for most of us, lead to an “icky” feeling. We may even lead our lives differently because of them.

Would you want to have a stupid, pointless argument be the last memory you have of a father who suddenly was killed in a car crash? Could you live with the guilt you would feel if your child made you so mad you quit speaking to them, only to lose them to an overdose?

These are difficult emotions to reconcile, and yet reconciliation is paramount in the delicate human psyche. Should you then avoid confrontation and lie down like a door-mat for all to tread upon? What is the answer to balance these?

I think forgiveness, at least to ourselves. If we are strong enough, to reach out to someone who has wronged us and try to make peace, with true intent, nothing less will do.

So I challenge you to think of someone who ticked you off, or is ticked at you. Reach out. If they do not reach back, that’s okay, at least you tried and now you will have peace in your heart.

Peace out!

Oh, and if you want to send a little gift as a message, be sure to check out our Flower Power Love Bug. It will be sure to bring smiles!

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In an earlier post, I wrote about my memories of fishing with my grandpa. My two sets of grandparents, who are now all deceased, ahd important impacts on my life. Some of my very fondest memories of childhood revolve around them. Those memories are something that cannot ever be replaced.

Sadly, I can’t recall ever thanking them for those precious memories. Or honoring them for the willing and loving help they gave me, both big and small.

Had I known a Grandparent’s Day existed, it would have spurred me into the action of giving them a token to honor them, to thank them for the positive influence they had on me.

I urge everybody who still has a grandparent in their lives to make a point of calling or sending a small token of thanks to them, and let them know that you appreciate them. Their wisdom from life experience is priceless, even when we don’t always realize it or heed it.

Here is our featured design for Grandparents Day if you wuld liike to send flowers. Click on the link and it will bring you to our site. Remember to register as a user, it’s free.

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In remembering our fallen heroes of conflicts back through the decades, we have always set aside a day as a nation to celebrate our military heroes. This is good and right. Since that fateful day we all know as 9/11, our understanding of the designation “patriot” was broadened.

In a truly bizarre and devastating attack, a nation, even a world, was brought to a new level of awareness of the human nature to defend and protect against evil.

We all know who the heroes are.

The military was there immediately, helping people to safety. I recently read a story about some Marines who showed up at a daycare facility near the Pentagon, un-asked. In teams they picked up cribs with babies and anything else and brought them out of danger.

The first responders? Oh, how well we all know who they were. So many of them lost their lives in the blink of an eye while trying to save the lives of people caught up in the surreal drama.

And every day folks, traveling in the air, going about their daily business suddenly confronted with berserk people and making a decision. A decision that still ended their lives, but saved countless others by forcing a crash in a Pennsylvania field.

Heroes all. Bravo and standing ovations forever!

I think, though, that we have many more patriots. I certainly was no hero that day, but it changed me forever, and I want to remember why I proudly call myself a patriot.

Like most people, I was going about a usual day. I guess it was about 9:00am that I was receiving a shipment of plants. The driver came in with a load and mentioned that a plane had just crashed into the world trade center building. After realizing that it could not have been the world trade center in St. Paul, MN, (we would have heard it), he went to listen some more while I unpacked plants.

Then he came back in scant minutes later and told me that another plane had hit the other tower. The chills, fear, and anguish that went through my body as I realized the significance of that second plane still, yes even right now: bring a sense of dread and disbelief.

The rest of it is such a blur. At one point before or after hearing about the Pentagon, we heard and felt two fighter planes go screaming overhead. I went out on my deliveries, barely keeping tears in check. The flowers were almost ignored by recipients, all we could do was shake our heads and mourn.

When the first building collapsed, I felt as if I did, too. All I could think about was the children who at that moment became orphans. I drove the couple miles to my church after my last delivery and sank onto a pew in the darkened sanctuary and wept. I must have sat there for an hour or more, alternately sobbing, praying, and shaking my fist at God. Most of the crying was done out of compassion for those left behind, but some of it was for me, too. I was scared.

That evening our family gathered in front of the television, praying that any minute we would be told of survivors being found. The power went out. We looked at each other, nobody saying really anything but easily reading the dread in each others expressions. We cautiously went outside, scanning the skies for airplanes, noticing neighbors up and down the street doing the same. We were immensely gratified when a brief half hour later the power came back on. Turns out a car hit a power box during an auto accident.

A tiny piece of background. I was educated in the public school system during the 70’s. Every morning, we as a school body stood and faced the American flag, and recited the pledge of allegiance. It didn’t really mean anything to me, it was just something I had to do. I will admit here that I would get a bit of a shiver if I heard a really good vocalist sing the “Star Spangled Banner”.

On that day, Sept. 11, 2001, I became a patriot. No, I did not lay down my life to protect my country or its citizens. What happened is nevertheless profound. I became a willing partner with my fellow citizens to see that future generations understand and appreciate why we stand together. That duty to country, patriotism; is as much about preserving humanity as it is about fighting on a battlefield.

My battlefield is my little flower shop in St. Paul, MN. Conversations with people over the counter as I wrap their flowers and gifts plant tiny seeds of understanding that, with hope and faith, will flourish and grow to supply a hungry nation. A nation hungry for true patriots.

I have shared my memories of that day in hopes that others will post here with their memories, too. This is one of those wounds that will fester if not opened up occasionally to let out the toxins. It is cleansing.

In closing, I just really want to extend my utmost and sincerest condolences to those who lost a loved one or friend on that day. I give my pledge to you all that this patriot stands with you.

God bless

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I just recieved my third invitation so far for graduations this year. I find myself moved to tears for these young people who are moving into a completely new realm of reality, and the things that they face as they accept ever more responsibility for their own futures.

And yet their excitement and energy is contagious.

I take myself back to those times, way….way back. I remember my own plans and dreams. And you know what? I achieved them. There are not so many people who can honestly say that they are living their dream, so I find myself humbled by the gripes and complaints that I frequently fall into when I’m tired and just plain ol’ pooped.

I believed in myself, and best of all, others believed in me too. It was a long haul, and it still isn’t easy sometimes, (well, most of the time) and yet I wouldn’t trade running my own flower shop for something that I might consider easier. The rewards would not be as great.

So here is my advice to all of those graduating this year.

Believe in yourself, and hold onto your dreams. You may be ridiculed by others, or even pressured to follow another path. The realities of life are not easy, and the paths are seldom straight, but they are your paths and you are the only one who has to walk them. Make them worth the walk!

Congrats!

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