last night my oldest, Lily, was telling me about something that had happened in her day, and at the end of all her descriptions she got to the point she wanted to make. then she gave a little laugh and said “huh. maybe I could have just said that part, but sometimes I just can’t stop rambling on and on and on.” at which point I started laughing because she 100% got that honestly.
I’ve been putting off telling the story of how Liliharp Flowers all began because every time I’ve attempted to write it, my brain starts rambling on and and on and on. then I begin to struggle with just how far back to go. did it begin with the purple irises in my childhood backyard that I feel like may be one of my first real memories? is it when we bought our first house and I experienced the joy that planting flowers would bring me? is it when we sold our first house and I realized I wasn’t going to miss the house but only the plants? is it when or is it when I became a wedding photographer and realized I like photographing the flowers as much as the people?
but if it get to the heart of it, none of that is really when it all began.
it really all began when my grandma passed away.
she was a strong, lovely, amazing listener type of soul, with the kind of twinkling eyes that made you feel at ease when she looked at you.
one of the last times I saw her, she was sick and frail and didn’t seem very aware. but she was able to sit up in a chair, so as we went to leave, my girls and I took a photo with her and gave her big hugs. we then stood back to wait for the others to leave with us, and I looked away from her to listen to the conversation in the room. but when I looked over again, I saw she was staring at Lily and Harper with those kind twinkling eyes and this beautiful serene look. then she noticed me looking and gave me a firm wink and a gentle smile. It gave me chills and I couldn’t help but think that was her way of letting me know she’d be watching over them soon.
that was the last time I saw her with her eyes open.
two days after my grandma passed away, the girls and I were wandering through a local sunflower patch all alone, choosing blooms for a funeral arrangement, when suddenly we were surrounded by a mini flock of hummingbirds (technically called a “charm”-how charming is that?!) that followed our every step as we walked through the field. it went on for about five minutes, the birds darting in and out the space around us when we walked, then settling on leaves to rest when we stopped to cut.
after our frolic in the field we crossed the road to go pay for our flowers and told the cashier about the hummingbirds. to which she replied something like: “well you know, hummingbirds are known for being a sign of comfort and hope. and given that we rarely see one in the sunflowers - much less a bunch of them - I think those may have been sent just for you.”
which is where naturally I teared up and threw her off guard with a hug and a rambling statement about how my grandma has just passed away and I really needed to hear that.
now this is the part in the story where I tend to stumble as to how much to add, so I’ll attempt to put it in a nutshell: prior to grandma’s passing, I had begun to hate that the long weekend hours required of my wedding photography career were affecting the family time I had always said I would prioritize. I knew that taking a pause or switching gears entirely may be necessary, but I didn’t know what next step to take. which led to a lot of feelings of insecurity and confusion which led to depression and anxiety that I was really good at hiding on the outside but began manifesting in the form of physical pain on the inside soon after grandma passed away. however, instead of thinking the pain was at all related to my emotions - silly me - I became a bit of a hypochondriac who was convinced that something was physically terribly wrong. not surprisingly, two doctors couldn’t find anything wrong related to my symptoms, but then a third, who also couldn’t describe the pain, found what he thought to be a non related lump that needed to be further explored.
naturally hearing that made my world stop, and for 24 hours I walked around in a fog, my normal strong and fighting spirit starting to fade fast. I quickly recognized that if I was going to make it through the 2 week wait time for the diagnostic test without losing my mind, I needed to find something to keep me focused.
there’d been an online course on marketing that had sparked my interest earlier, so I revisited the site to sign up, but this time the first thing to pop up was a review from a former student who owned a flower farm. intrigued, I clicked on her website, and in that instant lightning struck. I’ll never forget standing in my kitchen when her site appeared on my phone and having a tunnel vision moment where everything around me went fuzzy as all the flower memories and the conversations of me telling people I wanted to live on a farm one day and the hummingbird experience ran at me like a movie reel. my entire body was covered in chills and yet at the same time I felt an overwhelming warmth from the peace that came from realizing I’d just discovered my new path.
so I walked over to my husband, Carl, and said “I believe I need to start a flower farm.”
and because he is the best human in the whole wide world who believes in me more than I’ll ever comprehend, he goes “fantastic!” (or something maybe a little less cheesy than that) and we said a prayer and started scheming a bit as to what that may look like. then we went to bed.
sidenote: there’s this important life tidbit I’ve come to know to be true through other experiences, which is… when a desire has been placed in our heart and we believe it can be ours, focusing on the how isn’t important. in fact, focusing on the how is often what gets in the way of dreams coming to pass, our limited human minds and capabilities blocking the spiritual flow (which I refer to as God) that is waiting for us to let go so it can deliver. It doesn’t mean that achieving our dreams doesn’t require work, it just means that when we trust that the work we need to do will be revealed to us and the tools we need to do the work will be provided by a spiritual force we’re putting our trust into, amazing things will happen.
(off my soapbox now)
so I woke up the next morning - in February, a person with no land to grow on (and even if I had it should have been prepped months ago), and no experience growing plants on more than a 2 square foot lot - choosing to believe that what was needed to begin my flower dream would be provided. and unlike some desires that take a while to manifest, this one didn’t test my patience because:
literally within 24 hours a phone call occurred that secured the land in a way better than I could have asked for, and the next week became a flurry of reading everything I could on the topic of growing flowers, buying seeds and supplies, starting said seeds and putting them in every spot that got an inch of sunshine around the house, etc. etc. etc.
then the date arrived for the x ray to learn more about the lump, and wouldn’t you know it: that night I dreamed about hummingbirds.
I’m beyond grateful to say that the test showed that all way okay, and the first week in April 2019, Carl and I turned the dirt - by hand - of the two beds that will forever be known as the spot where Liliharp Flowers began.
the growing season was as to be expected, full of triumphs, failures, and (many many) lessons. it also brought along with it amazing relationships and opportunities that again, I couldn’t have orchestrated on my own.
and perhaps my most favorite moments to reflect on are the times when hummingbirds showed up at the garden when my spirit was low or discouragement attempted to set in, like the time when one actually suspended in the air directly in front of me without drinking from the flowers and stayed for a minute or so as I watched in disbelief. other times they’d sit on the support posts for a second or drink from a flower right next to my head. after the second and third occurrence, I was almost scared to tell Carl or anyone else what had happened for fear they’d think I’d become a lying hallucinator. but as they say, the experiences were ones I couldn’t really make up, and I always saw them as a beautiful reminder that grandma was there.
in short, though losing her was one of the hardest life experiences I’ve had, her passing became the catalyst for a dream that I know she’ll always be a part of - and she has a really cute and fun way of showing her support.
so not surprisingly, when November came and all of the leaves fell from the trees, guess what I discovered? a hummingbird nest in the tallest tree overlooking the garden.
and one more fun little tidbit: lately I also just learned that people say hummingbirds can be seen as symbols of tenacity and endurance in pursuit of our dreams. I’ll take that one and run with it, too.
now after reading all of that, you may be wondering why I didn’t call it hummingbird farms. well, for one it’s probably taken, and two, I really wanted to honor my two girls - the ones that inspire me everyday to be the kind of woman who shows them how to go after their dreams - so Liliharp it is. Lily + Harper = Liliharp Flowers. The business and life journey they’ll have memory of seeing their mom go on as her close friends and family cheer her on from the sidelines and smiling spirits cheering her on from above.
they’ll also hopefully see that it is possible to make their part of the world a little more beautiful than when they arrived, that helping the earth in small ways can lead to big waves, to honor all living things no matter the size, and that there are many many people who believe in those same principles and are happy to join you on your quest to do good in the world. those of you who support our flower farm are in the group of wonderful people, and I can’t say thank you enough for choosing to buy local flowers. you’re making more of an impact than you know, not just on my family but on your local ecosystem and community, and I’m beyond grateful that you’re walking alongside me on this path. the journey’s just beginning, but I know it’s going to be a great one, and I appreciate you for being a part of the story.