Many times I have posted a photo of a sunflower with the #TodaysSunflower hash tag. Some of you may know the story behind these postings but for those of you who don't....here is the reason.
My father HATED sunflowers.
My son, when little, brought home a little sunflower plant from a sale at school. There is an adorable photo of him with the baby plant and then a photo of how beautiful it looked when it grew in my garden. It has hung on my parents' fridge for ever. "Gosh, I hate sunflowers. Cute photo but I hate those flowers," my father would explain.
When we first bought our home, we were so excited to have a garden of our home. My husband dug and planted and watered and our first garden was so beautiful to us. And yes, we had planted some sunflowers. "The garden looks great," said Dad, "but I'm not wild about the sunflowers".
Again in our new home we were excited to purchase some art for the bare walls. Nothing fancy, like prints from Michaels, but one print was of a very large sunflower. "The room looks great", again Dad said, "but I could do without the sunflower print".
Finally, I needed to try to find out. "Dad, what is your deal with sunflowers? I don't get it."
At the time my Dad said, "I can't explain it, they just don't sit well with me."
"But they are just a flower, it just doesn't make sense", I insisted.
"I honestly don't know, there is a reason I don't like them. That's it. No big deal", he explained.
Time went on and things got messy. My Dad passed away after battling an illness in the Summer of 2004. Obviously, it was rough on all of us. Most of that time is blurry. But there is one very distinctive memory.
At the cemetery I noticed that the plot behind my father's was covered in little sunflowers. Small plants, plastic ones. I guess his eternal neighbor really liked sunflowers. I said a little prayer to my father: "I'm so sorry you have to be around the one flower you hated. But I promise that whenever I see a sunflower, I will think and you and say hello".
For the year following my father's passing I wrote in a small journal. Almost every day I saw a sunflower and I would write it down. No one really knew about this. And it wasn't like I would pass by the same deli flower display in NYC -- every sighting was different. Someone might send me a card, there might have been a display in Macy's windows, a commercial on TV or someone's flower arrangement on their desk.
My first tattoo was of a sunflower....I choose it to honor my Dad, but in all honesty he would have HATED that I got a tattoo.
Could it be that he hated them so much because he somehow knew he would stuck by them forever? Almost 14 years later, the plot still has a sampling of sunflowers. Did he hate them so much that I would remember that at this tough time and have a touchstone to remember him by? Who knows.
So when you see a posting (and now many of my friends know about my sunflower story and add sunflower emojis to texts or send me photos when they see one too) you will know the significance.
#TodaysSunflower. Miss you too. Love, me
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