JUNE'S BIRTH FLOWERS

Over the years, June was a month that we celebrated quite a few special birthdays.  Sadly, some of those family members and friends are no longer with us.  But, those that are, we celebrate their lives and the roles they play in ours.  Is it a coincidence that two of my new Venny friends were born in June?

 June has two birth flowers, the rose and the honeysuckle.  The rose is considered the queen of flowers, symbolizing love.  The honeysuckle symbolizes constancy and second chances.  Their name comes from the Middle English word 'honeysouke' which means 'honey suck,' referring to the flower's ability to be sucked for its sweet nectar. 

Honeysuckle

Look exactly like Gramma's roses

When I think of the most beautiful rose I've ever seen, my mind immediately goes back to the humble rose bush that grew alongside my Gramma's house.  The fragrance from those roses will stay with me forever.   Remember  burying my nose in one of these roses and taking in a deep breath, as though I was putting the fragrance in a container somewhere inside of me.  Gramma didn't mind me picking the roses, but I also remember the thorns that would stick me.  An early lesson that there's no pleasure without pain.  In order to enjoy something beautiful, one must endure something difficult or painful.  Don't know why that is, but it is true.

Can't help but chuckle when I think back some sixty years and realize I had the mind to stop and smell the roses.  My Gramma played a large part in my appreciation for flowers.  She had very little in her lifetime, but she had what matters most.......gratitude and appreciation for what she did have.  Her perennials even I could count on from year to year.  And, she and I paid homage to clover blossoms and dandelions, as well.  That's where I learned the silliness of categorizing pretty yellow flowers as a pesky weed.  Not in my world and not in Gramma's world.  Instead of removing them, we braided the blossoms into round wreaths that Gramma would place on top of my head and smile at me.  Gramma is the first person I want to see when I arrive at the final destination.  I had my maternal Gramma for the first twelve years of my life, and I remember her funeral like it was this morning.  My whole body shook as I sat in one of the front church pews between Mom and Daddy.  It felt like I would fly apart, but I guess I felt worse than I looked cuz nobody tried to console me.  My other paternal grandmother died when I was two.  My Mom used to say that I was a lot like her, cuz I'd be crying one minute and laughing the next.  Don't know what that was all about, but maybe a bit of her does live within me.  If she was like my Daddy, then, yes, I'd have loved her very much.

Legend tells that the birth flower began as far back as ancient Rome.  It was believed that certain flowers brought luck and protection during the month they bloomed.  

~Flowers don't tell, they show.~ 

~Stephanie Skeem