Flower Farm

It started as a dream. Literally. In January 2019, my father passed away after a long battle with aplastic anemia and it was a devastating experience. I was in immense grief. I thought of him every day and I went into a depressive episode. In 2020 right before Covid hit, my father came to me in a dream. He was sitting in a wheelchair and asked for a hug. I crouched down beside him and gave him the biggest embrace as he whispered, "Remember this always." It was so real that when I woke up I felt his warmth wrapped all around me. He left the scents of smokey incense and sweet blooms, just like my childhood home. 

It might seem crazy-supernatural for some of you even- but dreams are so potent and real in my culture that I took it as a sign. One, that my father was always with me and two, that it was time to find a way to honor him; someone who loved nature and flowers. The first year was my practice year. I silage tarped some lawn, my husband built me raised beds, and I got to work. The soil that was delivered killed most of the flowers (too salty) but when the first zinnia finally bloomed, I knew something good was coming. The garden healed me.

I dedicate this work to my dad whose life wasn't easy yet he knew how to make it beautiful nonetheless. Just like the gardens he and my mom tended, our flowers here are grown organically and sustainably. Hands to dirt, heart to earth. What started off as a personal project is becoming more communal. Customers have told me stories of their own grief and how their gardens help rooted them. I have heard stories of favorite flowers and childhood memories.  Of grandmothers' gardens and of generous neighbors who divided plants to give. The garden heals this much I know. Thank you for sharing with me, for following along, and for supporting this little part of Remy & Rose.