The “ant bouquet” – meant for a special lady

I wasn’t going to go into the upscale retirement community but something told me not to just drive past. Everyone was in the dining room. I had 28 bouquets. One lady said, “I will let you in on a little secret. Today’s my birthday.”

The waiter came over and said, “Can you give one to Annie? She has been crying all morning. She has a lot going on in her life. “Where are you from?” She replied, “I am from Armenia.” Her face brightened and we talked about happy things.

Another lady took the bouquet and told me that she and her husband had played the harmonica all over the world, especially loved the tours that they did in Ireland. She reached into her pocketbook and pulled out lots of photos – and oh, what a glamorous entertainer she was. She looked like a movie star.

One lady returned her bouquet to me. “I am afraid that the flowers might have ants. Here, give it to someone else.”

I left the facility with only one bouquet. I went to another place where I was doing a program which I call PRAYERS TO WARM YOUR HEART. I did not have enough flowers for the 20 people in attendance but I carried the one “ant” bouquet in with me.

A devoted family was there to celebrate their mother’s 97th birthday. Lots of balloons, a gigantic decorated cake and love to share with everybody. The family was taking lots of photos and they were very attentive to all of the residents. I asked the daughter if I could give her mother my single bouquet. She beamed with happiness. “Why of course. My mother is in hospice now.” The bouquet was not meant for the “ant lady” – it was meant to go to the sweet lady who was celebrating her final birthday with her family.

How other people spend their days

I tried my feeble Spanish on a resident whose name was Carlos. His family was originally from South America. He had been a social worker in an inner city all of his life. He was of course bi-lingual so the Spanish practice was just for me – a little conversation. He was reading a very thick novel but was laying flat on his back – not propped up on a pillow to read the book comfortably. He appreciated the flowers and smiled at my attempt to converse in Espanol. He did not look like he was at retirement age. Maybe about 55. So while the rest of the men in the area golf, garden and barbecue on sunny Sunday afternoons, let us say a prayer for the many hundreds that I see who can no longer grow their own squash and tomatoes or talk to neighbors dropping by. I guess feeling sorry for yourself doesn’t change the situation. “There but for the grace of God go I.” I have been praying for God to lead me to what is my purpose. I still haven’t found it. But maybe being the Flower Lady is the in-between path. And oh, just a little extra post-script. I met a lady at the same place yesterday from Norristown. Attended Ebenezer Baptist Church. She loved the flowers and as I was walking away, she said, “I miss Norristown so much!”

Faith lesson today from a resident!

I wasn’t going to go into the man’s room. There were so many ladies sitting in the hallways in their wheelchairs. I gave about ten bouquets to the CNA’s and nurses that give their all to their patients. I had 32 bouquets. I went into the lunch room too. So with two left, I went into Lester’s room. “Oh, so you are from West Philadelphia? My daughter lives down there. There are so many beautiful old houses down there but she lives in an area that makes this mom nervous,” I said. Lester said, “I know about worrying about kids. Mine are adults now. But, Sis, this is what you have to do. You have to put all of your kids and cares in the care of God. If you trust God, you won’t feel so nervous. He is the captain of the winning Team! Just reach out your hands to Him.” He held the bundle of flowers and thanked me effusively for the gift and asked if I could put another bouquet on the table for his room-mate who was not there. All flowers gone. Mission accomplished. And I thanked him for the gift of his message of Faith!

Do men like flowers? Sydney does!

A man was sitting outside of the nursing home. I smiled and gave him a bouquet of flowers. I asked him if he was retired but that was just a polite type of question. He was in a wheelchair and looked well past retirement age.

I have two Master’s degrees, one in electrical engineering and one in computer science. I worked with the Rear Admiral on top security projects for my whole career. I went to the University of PA. Will you please excuse me for a minute? I will probably be back. That was my room-mate who just came in on that stretcher from the ambulance. He was in the hospital for a week. I want to give him the flowers as a WELCOME BACK present.

You have to take care of your sister.

I was doing a therapeutic recreation program today in the Dementia Unit and a resident asked how tall I was. I said 5’11. “I am going to call you Slim.”

He had unruly hair, was seated in a wheelchair and seemed a bit restless. It is curious that he did not seem to recall anything about recent times but he told me this story from 4 decades ago.

“You know, when I was 40, my father was dying. I was saying goodbye to him and he told me I had to take care of my sister. She was a nun. She’s been living ‘out in the woods’ for 20 years – but he really didn’t mean that she lived in the forest. He meant that she was not in the “real world” because she lived in a convent and he thought she was out of touch with the real world.”

Joe started sobbing. He was 80-years-old.

“I tried to take care of her. I can still hear my father’s voice – it was so firm and commanding. I really did the best that I could for my father. His name was Jim. I hope I didn’t disappoint him. He told me that my sister needed me. I tried to keep my promise. I am no saint. My dad’s voice was always so emphatic – Joe, you always have to take care of your sister.”

What is behind the face of the man in the assisted living facility?

The gentleman had a European accent. Maybe about 85-years-old. We were somehow talking about family secrets and the discussion led to things being too much to even talk about.

When our beloved 24-year-old daughter died, my wife and I never talked about it. When we lost our home and everything we owned, we talked about it all of the time.

You lost everything? What happened?

World War II. We lived in East Berlin which became part of Poland. Strife and conflict were all around us. Fear overwhelmed us. There seemed to be no hope or encouragement. We were Jewish. There are no words to share with you about the suffering.

She really needs something to lift her spirits.

When I went into Lillian’s room, the activity director whispered, “She really needs something to lift her spirits. She cannot walk anymore and she just had to give up her cat. Her niece took the cat to California.” The lady was sitting in a big chair. The small room was decorated with cat statues, bookends, mugs and picture frames with frisky kitten faces displayed. “I brought you a little bouquet,” I said. “Oh my golly, then you must have heard that Baby died.” “Who is Baby?” I asked. “Baby was my lap cat. Sat on my lap for many years. But now that I cannot walk, I couldn’t keep her anymore and had to give her up. My niece took her on a plane in a crate. I just got the bad news that Baby died. My heart feels broken. But the good part is that she said Baby died peacefully. I took good care of BABY and she gave me more comfort than I could ever imagine. I wish that I could cuddle with her again.”
Lillian held the bouquet closely and seemed to nod off to sleep.

A birthday but no presents for this lady

The activity director took me from room to room to give the bouquets of flowers donated by Trader Joe’s to the residents in a Philadelphia nursing home. In room 202, a 94-year-old lady opened her half-closed eyes and then teared up when I gave her the flowers. She said, “For me? Who are they from? Today is my birthday.” I looked around the room. There were no birthday cards on her bureau, no helium balloons, no sign of a birthday remembrance. No opened presents, no floor littered with wrapping paper as in days gone by…..no presents from the grandkids…forgotten? Was she without a family? No one to belong to? It is a “gift” for me to be able to do this.

I do not think it is any “accident” that I am following my arrow….no matter where it points. I never thought it would point to being the Flower Lady…..6 weeks of delivering flowers, just hit the 1800 mark……1800 bouquets of joy, in cellophane with little hearts on the wrapping. Thank you, Trader Joe’s for this wonderful way to start my day!

From Carol about the flowers

Trisha,

You bring tears to my eyes, Tricia. How wonderful that Trader Joe’s wants to share the beauty and especially wonderful that you are willing to take the time to deliver the flowers. I’ve always loved Trader Joe’s but don’t have the time to go to Ardmore as often as I’d live. Now I have to MAKE the time to thank them with more of my business since you always make the time to do your good works.

Warmly,

Carol

A – Flowering I Will Go

A -Flowering I Will Go

I never thought much about flowers and certainly never intended to become The Flower Lady. My daughter works for a non-profit organization and Trader Joe’s donated flowers for their AIDS fundraiser event. The clerk asked Kristen if she knew of any hospitals or nursing homes that might want their “day-old” flowers.

The thought of tossing beautiful flowers away at the end of the day got me thinking, “What if I stopped over there every morning and then made the rounds of local nursing homes to pass out bouquets of pansies, orchids, roses and sunflowers?”

I reckoned that the surprise gift of flowers might be a tonic for someone feeling lonely, restless or worried.

Bright and early, I arrived at the store and Emily gave me 60 bouquets placed in buckets with water to keep them fresh. I went to a nursing home in Germantown. Mission accomplished – given away within an hour.

I was so excited that I drove back downtown to retrieve another 60 bouquets that did not fit in my car for the first delivery.

A lady was lying in her bed. I walked into the room and said, Would you like some flowers? She looked up startled. Her eyes seem to fly open.

I’ve always wanted someone to give me flowers. You are my Sunshine for bringing these to me.

Oh, my mouth cannot close. I am so happy. I just keep saying ‘Oh my! Oh my! Because when you get flowers it means that someone cares about you.

Did you grow them in your garden?

Do men get flowers too? Wow, that is great. My wife is coming to visit in a few minutes. She has a heart of gold. And now I can give her these gold sunflowers!
I am going to pretend that I bought them.

My heart melted as I pictured him surprising her with flowers. He. winked with amusement

I don’t want any. I don’t have any money to pay you. You mean they are free. Who are you, dear? Why are you bringing me flowers?

I didn’t think it was going to be a good day and then this happens. You are giving me these beautiful flowers, really?
She looked surprised. Her eyes crinkled….and I saw tear-filled eyes.

I am feeling desperately homesick. I have been in and out of hospitals and now here for rehab. I just want to go home. I would love the white roses. I have company coming.


Miss, what you just did for us, bringing flowers to everyone, means more than if you came in and gave us a hundred dollars.

He hugged me and I hugged back.

Are you from my church? I go to the one at the bottom of the hill.

A frail lady in her 80’s said, Can you help find my father? I want to talk to him. My mother passed away yesterday and I can bring the flowers to her funeral.
Of course, the dementia blurred her reality. I just smiled and told her that someone would help her find her father, long departed.

Time lies heavy on a resident’s mind – lots of time for memories to creep in and fear and worry too. I think the flowers help the spirit. I thought that flowers were just for ladies. But I noticed that the guys liked the flowers as much as the women.

I watched lots of wrinkled hands entwined around the flowers. Smelling them. Touching them. Admiring them. Holding them close against their hearts.

One lady wrapped her arms around me and leaned in for a kiss.

I no longer travel to the downtown Trader Joe’s – a local one is helping now. I have a new routine. Up and out by 8 am, dressed up and off to get the flowers!

Trader Joe’s is so happy that they can be a part of this “recycling of flowers project.” So I am not just going green…..going pink, yellow, white and red….all of the colors of the bouquets that they give to me each morning. All of bouquets that are blooming and helping people in need of a smile!

Some of the places where the flowers brought joy!

Since I began the Flower Project in mid-May, some of the residents of the following places have been surprised by the gorgeous bouquets of flowers donated by Trader Joe’s. I am so grateful to them for sharing so many fresh, colorful and beautiful bouquets. It has been so much fun for me!

Here are some of the local senior living communities that have been the recipient of the generosity of Trader Joe’s. More than 1,000 bouquets of fresh flowers delivered as of June 27th.

Wesley Enhanced Living, Germantown, two visits
Twining Manor, Holland
Paradise Manor, Hatfield,
Wesley Enhanced living, Burholme
Redeemer Senior Apartments
York House Senior Living
Philadelphia Housing Residents
Fairview, Bethlehem Pike
Vika Home, Ambler
Caring Hearts, Germantown
Manor Care, Montgomeryville
Brandywine Senior Living, Norristown
Regina Nursing Home, Norristown
Brookdale Senior Living, North Wales
Harlee Manor, Springfield
Sunrise, Abington
Wesley Enhanced Living, Doylestown
The Birches, Harleysville
Elm Terrace, Lansdale
Golden Living, Doylestown
Golden Living, Lansdale
Philadelphia Protestant Home
Fairview, Paper Mill Road
Hillcrest Center, Genesis
The Oaks, Genesis
North Penn Senior Center, two visits
New Seasons, New Britain
Abramson Jewish Community
Brookside, Roslyn
Towne Manor, Norristown, 2 visits
West Philadelphia Senior Center
Center Square Towers, Doylestown
Green Leaf, Doylestown
Buckingham Woods, Buckingham
Pine Run, Doylestown

Saw an old friend now living in a nursing home

I took 25 bouquets of flowers to a nursing home last week and saw the mother of two students that I taught in 4th grade in 1970 and 1971. I recognized their mother who lives at the nursing home. Here is the note that I received from the “little 4th grader” who is now in her late 40’s!

“Miss Mohan”,
Hi and thank you for the flowers for my mom. This is Nina and I was so thrilled to get your note. I called Angela today when I was at mom’s place and she was as thrilled to hear from you. She is in California and I am in Plymouth Meeting. She comes out every few months to see mom and we get time together also. I missed going to see her last week since I was sick and missed seeing them and you. What are you doing at the nursing home and how often do you go? Maybe we can connect and catch up? I finish teaching this Thursday for three weeks – are you going back to the nursing home during that time? Let me know, I have to go – family is calling.
Talk soon,
Nina

The flower project

Well, this week, a florist donated 223 bouquets of flowers that I took to the residents of 16 nursing homes. Not 223 bouquets all at once. Each morning, I went to the store and they gave me the “day-old” ones but they were fresh as a daisy to the residents who happily held them in their arms. I asked the store manager if I could come every morning…..and continue delivering them to local nursing homes and senior centers.
The lady said, “I have wanted to donate them for the past two years that I worked here. It is a waste to toss them in the trash at the end of the day but we have fresh flowers coming in every day so we cannot keep all of the flowers. I am glad that somebody can use them.” I am so glad too!

Who lives in the senior facilities that I visit?

Who lives in the senior living communities that I visit?

The wife of the 1947 Nobel Peace Prize winner, a man who was second in command to General Patton, a lady who attended the prestigious Wellesley College, a very esteemed doctor who worked with Surgeon General Everett Koop, a man who co-invented the atom bomb, a top runway model in her day…..fascinating what is behind the faces with some wrinkles – and the dear ones that have legs, ears, and eyes that no longer work like they should.

Thank you so much for the donation of 48 bouquets of snapdragons!

I know you think I must be lying but it happened again today. Honestly. I picked up 48 bouquets of pretty pink snapdragons that were donated to me.

I went to a nursing home in Germantown. I went to three levels of care – Assisted Living, Dementia and Independent. I gave a full bouquet to every resident that I saw and every staff member…..and my bag was empty. I had 48 takers and 48 bouquets. Now, how can that happen that way? One lady said, “I can’t close my mouth. I am so happy, I just want to keep saying ‘Oh, my…Oh my, somebody must love me and care because that is when people get flowers.”

I meant to take a bouquet to Mary..but could not find her!

I picked up 31 bouquets today and took them to three nursing homes. I vaguely knew Mary and when I went into the facility, there were so many Mary’s that we could not figure out what unit she was in so one of the nurses took me in and out of some of the residents’ rooms and into the dining room and …….the colorful blooms brought smiles to so many people. It was pouring rain, so gloomy outside which is the perfect kind of day to bring the gift of flowers to Marie, Louise, Helen……..and I knew that Mrs. M was there. She was the dear mother of two girls that I taught at Saint Paul’s back in 1970. So I put the flowers on her lap with a note to her daughters that Miss Mohan came by. Oh, how I love being the FLOWER LADY!

He was wearing a hat that said WOUNDED COMBAT VETERAN.

I met John today, an 89-year-old man. He was wearing a hat that said WOUNDED COMBAT VETERAN. His wife was in the dementia unit and he visits her every day for two or three hours each day. He sometimes goes back at night to make sure that she has eaten something. He feeds her. He plays music for her.

“Does she know you?”

“No, but sometimes she smiles at me. She is a good gal. And a pretty red-head Irish girl. We met back in the neighborhood when we were 15. This dementia is the worst thing I have ever been through. But being in WW II was hell too. I never let myself get close to too many guys because they could be dead the next day. I was supposed to be on the cruiser that went down with 795 men, the one with the five O’Sulivan brothers but I was shot and in the hospital for four months and then back in the war for eight months. You laid in the mud and the snow with those guys. You didn’t shave or wash much. You were just worried about staying alive. Can you say a prayer for my wife? Her name is Jacqueline.”

Coincidence or Providence that I met this man on Memorial Day weekend?

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