Flowers

It’s 4am. I can’t sleep, so I thought I’d waste some time writing a random blog about flowers.

Like many people, I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with cut flowers and what better time to explore these complexities than the wee small hours of the morning?

Yesterday, a sparkly friend said, “You’re probably not the person to ask...” and went on to question me on the etiquette of sending flowers when someone has died. As an expert on all matters relating to death I couldn’t think of a better person for her to have asked. Now that I’ve exhausted the usual 3am questions, like, ‘Why do elephants have four forward facing knees?’ I’m left pondering the thorny problem of flowers, particularly as they relate to love and death.

Flowers have all sorts of meanings and so if you send or give them then you feel the need to get it right.  These days, the rules on flower giving have become more relaxed but the Victorians were strict on these things. There used to be a book on our shelves at home called The Secret Language of Flowers that was all about what flowers were appropriate for each occasion. In Victorian times sending flowers was like sending a secret message. You could send a random man a bunch of Camelias and he would know that you admire him and believe him to be perfect but if you sent someone you had been out with a bunch of sweet peas you would be subtly ending it, saying, “thanks for a lovely time,” and if you really want to hammer the message home you could chuck some geraniums in there to tell him that you think he is stupid. You’ve got to admit that Tinder is easier.

Sunflowers representing happiness and longevity with a splash of purple for pride.

Flowers are less important in courtship and romance than they used to be but are still big business   when it comes to weddings. My lovely ex-policewoman lynchpin cousin has recently become a florist and looking at the wedding flowers she has worked on make me really happy. There is something  uplifting about a florists wedding Instagram. If only someone could add smells then it would be perfect.

Funeral flowers were also important when I was growing up.  You didn’t go to a funeral without taking some flowers. Since the Pinterest funeral people have been more controlling about what flowers they will accept.

‘NO FLOWERS - DONATIONS INSTEAD TO THE GEKKO PROTECTION SOCIETY’

People have been made to feel guilty about sending flowers to a funeral. When my parents died we felt pressure from the funeral directors to name a charity for people to donate to. With Dad it was easy because he had raised money for the British Heart Foundation since his first heart attack 37 years earlier but we still felt a bit uneasy about it. Why can’t people bring flowers if they want? Why  do they have to donate to our charity? I suspect this trend started because they didn’t want people ruining their chosen colour scheme. When it came to Mum’s we bucked tradition, refused to name a charity and asked everyone to bring a flower picked from garden or hedgerow. There was really something quite beautiful about watching everyone step forward to throw their buttercups, daisies and dandelions into the grave.

What about sending flowers to the living at times of death?

I think you should, if you want. It’s nice. It shows you care. When you are bereaved you feel really lonely and it’s comforting to know people are there. After Dad died, it was the people who dropped round an unexpected bunch of tulips that Mum really appreciated. Luckily, she had lots of vases and I did make a mental note to consider sending the flowers in vase arrangements to people in future.

Flowers for illness can be more tricky. Most people get a bunch of flowers sent from work if they’ve had an operation, which is nice but if you are ill for a long time or have a mental health problem or have no hope of recovery then the etiquette gets a bit awkward.

Maybe we need to adopt the Victorian’s approach to these tricky situations. I could write a book: Flowers to send in awkward situations. It could contain beautiful photographs of creative flower arrangements that send difficult messages.
A bunch of “ What, again?” that you could send to someone who is having their third by-pass. An arrangement of  “Pull yourself together,” for someone struggling with their mental health.
A bouquet of “It will pass,” for those suffering with the menopause (I suggest red flowers and red hot pokers).

 Dad had no flowers at his deathbed. He’d been attention seeking for over three decades and people don’t send flowers after the second or third time you go into hospital. Mum did. There were flowers everywhere. Flowers she loved. Flowers she hated. Every vase was full. I’m not sure how much comfort it brought to her, as she would look at them all ad joke, “Who died?” before realising, “Oh, me.” However, I’m thinking that it didn’t matter. Flowers aren’t for the dead, or even the dying. We don’t use them to send hidden messages. They are just expressions of love and compassion and I think there should be more of that.