We Saved the Flowers

 Caleb,

I remember when you went through your flower phase. It was around the time you started liking girls. Imagine that. You found all sorts of small glass containers and filled them with little bouquets. I wish I had taken more pictures, but I did capture one.

It truly is a picture worth a thousand words—a snapshot of a boy who loved deeply and wanted to share that love through the beauty of flowers.

You brought me, Kylee, and JoAnn so many arrangements during that time… and maybe a girl or two as well. 

Flowers suited you as a teenage boy.  You had an innate tenderness about you.

 

Flowers also go with funerals.

You would have loved the flowers given to us at your funeral—beautiful arrangements from so many people who love you and who love our family. Words cannot express the gratitude we feel.

You didn’t just love flowers.
You loved beauty.

I can still hear you saying,
“Mom, come look at the sunset. It’s perfect right now!”

Thank you for teaching me to pause and see the beauty all around us.

You loved sunsets most of all—probably because they were the most plentiful. But you loved beauty in every form: grand vistas from mountaintops, peach trees in blossom, and delicate flowers gathered into little arrangements.

On your mission your love of beauty continued. When we opened your Google Drive we found sunset pictures everywhere. At the time I valued pictures of people more than pictures of nature.

Now I treasure every single one of your sunsets.

 

After the funeral all the flowers came to our home. They covered our counters. 

Dad had the idea to hang the larger arrangements along the railing so they could be seen by everyone who entered our home. The smaller ones were placed on tables near the front door. It was beautiful. 

And they lasted for weeks.

Part of me was grateful for that… because I didn’t want to part with them. I didn’t want them to fade away. I dreaded the day we would have to throw them out—just one more piece of you… gone.

I couldn’t do it.

That’s when I knew I had to save the flowers.

One afternoon Camille helped me. We made a splendid mess, pulling roses and other blooms from the arrangements and filling a large basket. I didn’t know exactly what the final outcome would be, but now I love my basket of dried flowers.

Your last offering of flowers.

They sit in the front entry, next to the picture of you running to the Savior.

I also saved a few dried greens from each arrangement and added them to the wreath that stood beside your casket.  Kylee brought some silk flowers and artistically arranged them to complete it.

It’s beautiful again.

I’ve never been overly sentimental. Over the years I saved a few flowers here and there, but I’m not even sure where they ended up.

That has changed.

Now I’m sentimental. I want to save every flower connected to your memory.

I just can’t let them go.

No matter how long I need to keep your flowers, I know there's a deeper lesson for me here: 

Flowers were never meant to last forever. They bloom brightly for a season, then fade, leaving behind the promise that life will return again.   Because of the Savior, death is not permanent, and beauty is never lost forever. Just like the flowers that you once gathered, your life will be bright and vibrant again. 

And one day, because of Him, our family and I will be right there with you.

Love, Mom

PS. What do you spend your time doing?  If you have time, come join us in the garden.  Maybe you can help the flowers (and vegetables) grow better this year.