As my siblings and I arrange the funeral for my father, I offered to contact a florist.Â Operating on a budget, we nonetheless wanted flowers that echo the essence of Dad.Â Flowers festive enough for celebrating his life, and masculine enough to indicate his love of hunting, fishing, and the outdoors.
My husband called Vicky Chenoweth, a kind and compassionate woman who also happens to own Chenoweth Floral.Â He gave her the basic information, and then asked me to follow up.Â I explained that I was new to funeral planning and could use her help.Â Could she make us something that would fit the perimeters we were seeking?
â€œI can do that,â€ she said.
â€œCan you do that and keep us on budget?â€ I asked. Flowers are crazy expensive.
â€œYes.Â There are things I can do.â€
I found myself trying to control my voice.Â â€œThank you for being so understanding and kind,â€ I said.Â The tears pooled and ran down my cheeks even though I tried my best to stop them.
Vicky listened quietly, allowing my moment of grief to pass with dignity.
â€œI consider being asked to create flowers for your fatherâ€™s funeral, for all funerals actually, the highest honor,â€ she said.
I somehow managed to blubber out a wobbly, â€œThank you.â€Â Vickyâ€™s kind heart was the best part of my day.