When my mother-in-law passed away in March, it came time during the planning of the funeral to order flowers. Wanting something by her side from our children, I asked them, “What flower do you think of when you think of your grandmother?” After reflection, my daughter said, “Daisies. She always had us mow around the daisies.”
I don’t know what other people thought when they saw a simple vase of daisies by the casket. Perhaps they thought, “Well, they certainly cheaped out on the flowers, didn’t they?.” What other people thought is not important to me. The love and sentiment behind that simple cluster of daisies was real and deep.
Her daisies grew on her rural cottage property.
She wanted to keep the property looking nice and well cared for, so she insisted on mowing the lawn, but she just couldn’t bring herself to end the life of a beautiful flower in a natural setting. Anyone in charge of mowing the lawn at the cottage knew to mow around the daisies.
The clusters of daisies in that rustic cottage setting never earned a second glance from passers-by. However, this morning on my dog walk around our suburban neighbourhood, I came upon a lawn where the homeowner had carefully mowed around some daisies.
The rare sight in an urban setting made me stop.
I looked up the street one way to a sea of manicured green lawns, and I looked up the street the other way to a sea of manicured green lawns. Then I returned to appreciate a random haven of nature.
I’m not sure what the neighbours think of the daisies. Perhaps they think, “I wish those people would do something about that lawn.” What other people think is not important to me. I know that the people who live in that house just can’t end the life of a beautiful flower in a natural setting, so I like them already even though I’ve never met them. And I’m grateful for the beautiful memory of my mother-in-law those daisies inspired. Besides, I’d rather look at this: