In early March of this year, just a week before Mother’s Day, I lost my Mum. She had been poorly since Christmas and in hospital since mid-January. Her condition was brought on by a rare virus; a side effect of the chemotherapy she had received last year. We knew the prognosis was bleak, but nothing ever really prepares you for the worst news.
One of the first things I did on the morning that I heard the news of Mum’s death was to go in to the garden and cut some flowers for my sister. This was the beginning of me realising just how important flowers would be over the next couple of weeks.
I knew I wanted to be the one to create Mum’s farewell flowers. I didn’t have to think long about which flowers to use. She was a great lover of hellebore and so I knew these were a must. She also loved the blue that comes with muscari and bluebells. Too early for bluebells, it was muscari that went in. For narcissi – another absolute must as a March flower – I opted for a paler lemon colour to tone with the hellebore.
As luck would have it, the apricot tulips bloomed at exactly the right moment. In hospital Mum had talked about escaping and getting into her garden. She wanted to re-work it to include apricot and lilac flowers, so it was particularly poignant that I could include something in apricot for her. She never made it back in to her garden.
I chose the plum blossom in white from my own tree at home. I wanted something pretty and pale in colour to complement the rest of the arrangement. I also felt strongly that a spring funeral should have spring blossom to reflect the countryside around us at this moment in time. The next time I see spring blossom in the hedgerows I will think of Mum.
The foliage I included was eucalyptus and pittosporum, the latter coming from Mum’s garden. She was always very generous in letting me snip her tree when I need a bit of extra foliage so it was fitting to be able to add it in to her flowers. I also included some rosemary for rememberance, something that I do with all farewell flowers.
The final ingredient was some pussy willow. This is grown at my flower field and there has been a standing joke about whether I gave Mum flowers last year with the grey catkins or the pink ones. Mum was convinced it was pink, but I remain sure that I have only added the pink variety very recently so it was definitely grey. I added a few stems with a smile.
Mum’s farewell flowers included so much that is meaningful to me and to our family. Making them was unbelievably difficult, but when I saw them on her coffin I knew I had done the right thing. Throughout her funeral I looked at the colours and the shapes, knowing that she would have approved.
It was the last thing that I could really do for her and I am greatful to have had the chance.
These are Mum’s flowers.