Crowded Rooms and Loud Spaces
In 2010, I was a 7th grade teacher, I was the mom loudly cheering her son on as he played team sports, I was that true extrovert that thrived in a crowded room, and I loved….oh how I loved, to sing. One little Strand
I started noticing a constant hoarseness in my voice and after several doctor visits, a CT scan revealed the problem: a large mass deep in my neck pres
sing against my left vocal cord. My surgeon explained that the mass was difficult to remove and the nerve to my left vocal cord had to be cut. I could not talk…..at all. A Dream Awakened
After 6 corrective surgeries, I was left with about 3/4 of my former voice and the hope of my voice getting back to “normal” seemed to fade. What now?” Teaching a class full of 35 loud middle schoolers just wasn’t an option anymore. As I wept, my husband implored me “What makes you most alive? Do what you are passionate about.”
Remembering the Poppies
Immediately, I remembered being in Spain on a trip in college. I was exhausted after a full day. Driving back to my hotel, I got a sudden glimpse of a vibrant, pink color ahead. My heart started pounding out of my chest, as I got closer. I was stunned by rolling hills of vibrant, pink poppies- thousands and thousands of them! It was the first time I remember being utterly inspired by flowers. PoppyHill Flowers
Less than a year after my 1st surgery, with the support of many, a little bit of risk, and a whole lot of self-doubt, PoppyHill Flowers was born. As I created art with flowers, it became abundantly clear to me…… Flowers would be my voice. I’m amazed that one of the darkest periods of my life transformed into one of the most beautiful. PoppyHill rescued me from the temptation to disengage from all this beautiful life has to offer. It unleashed my creativity and awakened my senses to this wondrous adventure with flowers and the message they have to tell. I remembered how the poppies in Spain cried out to me. I realized that flowers had been there throughout my life; and in all of our lives….our birth…our death… our celebrations….all of the moments when we’ve needed to communicate something greater than our words could utter.
“Flowers are love’s truest language.”
~Park Benjamin~
