Never Enough Lilies

Everyone who is a fan of Bridgerton’s first season has opinion about the second.

Even this realist and skeptical writer is a fan with a soft spot for flowers and love.

I appreciated the second season’s deeper reach. I appreciated how the show did not shy away from grief, the different reactions of grief, and what it does to a person. I appreciate that Bridgerton showed the mother of the eight children remove the old flowers from her husband’s grave and put fresh flowers. All the way around, I loved, loved, loved, loved season 2 of Bridgerton.

While Violet speaks of her husband in episode 8 to her son and repairing the relationship, she says that her deceased husband is the last thing she sees before she sleeps and the first in her mind in the morning. Corrie is the sunset before I close my eyes, and the sunrise as I become aware of the need to wake up.

Bridgerton’s season 2 shows how the distance grows between Violet and her son because he has certain expectations following his father’s death. I also appreciated the show presenting that because a distance can grow between friends or even family members. Sometimes it may never be repaired because you change immensely almost into another person.

I even loved the fact that Violet brings some grace back to our world when she says in episode 8 that there is nothing worse than dying flowers when someone is ill. She sends fresh flowers to Kate (spoiler) after her fall.

I adore the flowers from the background to when they appear on set or leave, and the symbolism of flowers from tulips to …

yes, the lilies.

never enough lilies

Besides the character, Anthony, being obsessed with Kate’s smell of lilies, I loved lilies of all types long before Bridgerton season 2. I fell for lilies before I really took ownership of Corrie’s garden and for plans beyond the garden. It appeared in my writing for Corrie with the first lilies I loved.

Last year, Walled City Journal published my poem about Corrie called If I call you Juliet.

“If from this earth,

     such a stalk grows and at

             its top, a balcony blossoms

                             for your angel feet to press upon,

a terrace built by 

Heaven’s architects

with golden, black and purple Calla 

Lilies at the top 

over pink braided roses, and

sprigs from evergreen 

trees.  Red berries jut out from 

crevices between the corollas and greens.

The mountain laurels support their

weight and they never fade.”

~ Excerpt from If I Call You Juliet by Rebecca T. Dickinson

I’ve told the story several times about how Corrie would pick certain flowers around the farm, no matter the time of year, and I’d fuss at her.

“The flowers won’t survive that long,” I said.

“But, Mommy, they’re pretty,” she’d say, or “I picked them for you. You can put them in your hair.”

Corrie loved all flowers, and John and I each remember her different favorites. She not only picked them, but put on a show with the flowers. She’d ask me to put the flowers in her hair, or she’d do it herself. She’d put them on the grass, as the green was the background of a portrait, for me to take a picture.

Before Corrie graduated to heaven, I never had a favorite flower. I’d started gathering flowers with Corrie, and arrange them as something to give to other people.

In the past few weeks, I’ve developed the opinion that you can never grow too many lilies. My mother-in-law planted a bed of day lilies in the backyard, which bloom in June. From writing about lilies to seeing them in the store, I found our yard needs all kinds from Asiatic lilies, tiger lilies, day lilies and calla lilies.

I found out that the Betty Magnolia Tree I bought in honor of Corrie is popular because the blooms resemble lilies.

As I’ve continued on my journey through grief after Corrie earned her wings almost 23 months ago, I’ve faced periods of time when I reach an equlibrium. I know I must continue for the family I have. Sometimes it requires self-talks. Sometimes I am doing all I can to survive.

But, Corrie’s garden and our land has helped me in ways I never predicted.

It took me time to get there. It took a bad day and reflection. It took an examination of how to put a 15,000 piece puzzle together from medicine to therapy to the garden and to remembering what Yoga did for me before and what it can do again. There is a lot of work you must do when you grieve.

For me, right now, I need more lilies. I’ll continue to add them as I hear Corrie say, “Mommy, I love them. They’re so pretty.”

You can always visit Corrie’s wall or her memorial online.