“IN LIEU OF FLOWERS”

We live in a time where everyone is connected by social media—a time when the public sees photos of flower farms online showcasing the great harvest. You are presented with armfuls of exotic flowers and rolling hills of color, but not the patches of garden overtaken by beetles, the cold mornings spent mending fences, or the perfect blossoms decimated by harsh weather conditions. Society today offers a glimpse into each other's lives but not the full perspective. I invite you to see the compost pile. The dirt and rot that makes us grow. Let’s take a walk behind the scenes to promote authenticity and value in what is real in farming, life, and the struggles faced in business and the visual arts.

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MAY ANGELS LEAD YOU IN. HEAR YOU ME, MY FRIEND.

There are jobs that we know everyone just has. I’ve met disaster relief technicians who clean up fire and water damage as well as crime scenes. I’ve encountered tired, traveling funeral directors and other working professionals dedicated to mitigating destruction wherever they are to focus on the rebuild- for the things that can be restored. These are all heavy-hearted jobs that provide services we recognize as common in our country, yet they are not always part of our everyday routines.

On the other hand, I have worked in the wedding and events industry for nearly two decades, managing private and corporate events that flaunt a "no budget" aesthetic with lavish décor and meticulous attention to detail. I have provided luxury salon services and arranged flowers and designs for proms and festivals. You know… celebrations.

Every job I have had has required that personal touch and respect for either the occasion, the client’s substantial investment, or both. In the end, a client with a 100k budget for a Christmas party has never intimidated me more than answering the call for floral and design for funeral services. I am not the “lillies shoved in floral foam” sympathy arrangement kind of gal. I’ve cried more making funeral arrangements than I have watching every season of This Is Us. Specifically in this industry where I require an in-person meeting for photography bookings and phone consultations for flowers… what do I do when I try to build something for someone who will never see or smell the arrangements and floral installations made in their honor?

There are two types of people and you always know what type you are. “In lieu of flowers” and “please send flowers” people - I get requests from both types and know that the perfect painting of what they need in botanicals will make you see the what I see. This one is for the floral skeptics.

I see presentation over “just a product”. I live in exact opposition of the “compostable inventory in a vase”, pick a number on the site that best fits you, florist jobs. It almost seems as sad as funeral directing. Make an appointment to come out to the farm and see what I see. I see the ever evolving character of those perfect statement flowers that remind you of your favorite relative, that time you were surrounded by happiness, the perfect dream. I will build it for you. I see expression through The Language of Flowers and speak to you and your guests that way. A symbol of admiration. A declaration of love and intent. A thank you for caring for your mom in the hospital in the last days of her life. Some jobs hit me harder than others but all are just as important.

My every day begins with three solid cups of coffee, I open my email, I feel the project request hit me right in the tear ducts head on and head out to the farm. I walk the aisles of our garden beds looking for the perfect stems while sometimes, silently sobbing over people I have met and some I have only heard about. Sad tears, happy tears, quiet reflection. I breathe - I listen - I crumble - I observe - I break again - and then I build.

Nothing has hit me harder than my first Alabama “sympathy” request in the summer of 2024. I was on med leave after my last heart surgery and got the call for a child, a girl. A high school girl. A young KIDDO that was friends with the students I had just made prom flowers for. How do we go from celebration to sorrow? The kids ordering flowers for other KIDS that are gone and no longer there for the next school dance.

I dig my hands in the dirt, find the answers I am looking for, and I build. There are businesses that operate on “product order”. A stem count, price point, and color scheme system alone. I can’t. I feel this. Deeply. Even before I begin I look at my empty hands and want to do nothing more than wrap them around my own little girl. <Deep breath> Now Exhale…

Sometimes, when I see "in lieu of flowers," I wonder if the person overseeing final wishes ever received flowers specifically crafted for them. Handwritten cards and intentional designs utilizing the Victorian “Language of Flowers” - that is what defines The Cosmo Cottage. This book is not only one of my all-time favorites; the actual Language of Flowers dates back to the 1800s Victorian Era, where people assigned meanings to the floral varieties exchanged. Each flower telling its own silent story.

I am only partially fluent in this language that allows a wide range of emotion to be expressed through the delicate beauty of flora. Each carefully chosen blossom carries its own significant meaning, thus facilitating rich communication without the need for spoken words. I nurture a diverse variety of flowers, each selected for their beauty as well as their inherent significance. The Language of Flowers beautifully revives the art of sentimental communication, illustrating profound messages that come through our artistic pieces every day.

I only take on projects that my heart and mind can understand. Projects I can connect to - so- I built those pieces for you, sweet girl. For your mama. Your daddy because I was a daddy’s girl myself. For your community that embraced your family in blooms. All I was told- “please say you’re working, she just loved flowers,” and I knew after looking at your stunning portrait on the announcement card - I had to do this.

Unbeknownst to my electrophysiologist, I crawled out of bed, shoved an ice block in my bra and blasted a “One Tree Hill” mix on Spotify. I cried my eyes out, oh my God I cried. My afterhours singing voice began to shake at about 1:00am when “Hear You, Me” by Jimmy Eat World started up and I felt every beat. Some of the stems were sourced, but the rest grew in front of my eyes when you were still alive and then… we stopped time, preserved stems, and memorialized you all at once. In that one night by the radio with a revolving glass of Chardonnay.

In lieu of thoughtless floral work. In lieu of detachment. In lieu of soulless flowers. - We are Cosmo Cottage. Thank you for supporting Local Artists.

May angels lead you in sweet girl. I was so honored to paint you in flowers.

PRESENTING MY “SUPER NOVA” DISPLAY FOR A BUCKHORN MAMA THAT WAS TRYING TO HELP BROKEN HEARTS AT BUCKHORN HIGH GET PASSED THE LOSS OF THEIR FRIEND, JOLIE. MAMAS HOLD EVERYTHING IN AND EXPLODE INTO TEARS behind closed doors SO OUR KIDDOS DON’T SEE us grieve. THAT IS WHY WE MADE THIS PIECE To show our support for our Cosmic families that support our business and a BEAUTIFUL community that we are lucky to be a part of.

The Cosmo Cottage “Compost Beginnings” blog reminds us all that it is important to remember the full spectrum of the farming and design journey. This means not just reveling in the vibrant blooms that catch our eyes but also recognizing the hard work, unseen challenges, and sometimes messy realities that bring them to life.

A walk in the Cosmos, with Debbie

Everyone has a story. How they became who they are | How they found their passion | What brought them to… now. Our story of flowers began with Debbie - and Cosmo Cottage emerged at the same time we lost her. More stories of who we are, and I might not be walking in my garden today - without her.

I went into a mess of tears and craft boxes making this book the day after I got the news. I didn't know how much time.

I moved here to Texas in October 2020 and woke up on New Years Day to the news that one of the most important people to enter our lives had was beginning the fight for her life. But it never started with her chaos. It started with her kindness.

Debbie's first day of work as Koa's nanny, was Debbie Debbie's first day as a nanny. I suffered severe complications from a spinal surgery following a car accident and she was hired while I was at home to help lift and care for tiny Koa. Michael was deployed again, the pain grew to be unnatural and mind-numbing and I asked for help. The docs pushed it off, my own dad said it's nothing, just rest... Debbie believed me. "If you need to go, we will go to the hospital NOW", she said. After she helped carry me to the car I was rushed into emergency surgery and spent the next several days at Sacred Heart in Pensacola FL. I was told that had I waited longer, the infection would have taken control and I'd possibly lose the use of my legs. Leaving the house wasn’t easy. I looked terrified up at Debbie closing the door to the car. She said to me "I got this, you go”. Instant calm in my heart, I believed it. For the first time, someone meant it, someone got this while things were bad, really bad.

Debbie quickly became our everything. She watched Koa as I applied to cut flower farming school and encouraged my every dream. She heard me talk flowers and brought books I could relate to- Not even my parents had ever asked me what I wanted from this world so I amid my surprise, Debbie cared. I walked her out to see our new sprouts and she'd sing to Koa in the sunshine of our garden home in Florida. Debbie played with Koa while I went through months of trauma therapy after my accident and one day asked to take Koa for a stroller run through our bear-infested neighborhood. She laughed as she swore to me she would fight off the bears with her bare hands, and Lord, I believed her. She always protected us.

Time went on.

It was Debbie that taught our sweet dancer her first steps across the floor. Working in pediatric physical therapy before she knew Koa, our girl finally worked her tiny body into a wobbly but confident plié. So many milestones, sauntering through our Florida Garden House with handfuls of blueberries and fresh garden peppers.

We made pepper jelly while her gorgeous blonde highlights processed in her kitchen and I watched my daughter play, taking in the love of all that was around us. I wondered how many families had days just like this. Just normal, content, and filled with unmatched joy.

So many days of truly, unmatched joy.

When the storms hit and our house during Hurricane Sally, family sent #prayers, some said nothing at all, the Chebens sent help. Their own help. Help learning how to navigate hardships, help cutting down trees, help setting up our trailer to move, fixing fences, help with Koa, family kind of help, I imagine. For the first time... help- without begging or convincing loved ones to show up and without understanding how we were deserving of such love and kindness. For what reason. Because they were the Chebens.

The day I told Debbie Debbie we planned to move to Texas I broke down crying and brought home 2 stiff margaritas and a huge bag of tacos. We teared up, we giggled that the margaritas snuck up on us as I scolded her about "who gives a shit you're still on the clock. I am still kind of the boss, haha. Bad news always pairs best with tequila, Debbie." I jokingly said ...at the time.

I had no intention of stomaching the earth shattering news yesterday or the shot required to face it.

Koa had already spent over a year and a half looking for Debbie's face every time a blonde would turn around and even still, for the longest time, we still felt that... oh, not Debbie feeling.

I was in Alabama looking for our home we live in now when I found out Debbie didn’t have long. There was always that hurt from our move missing our friends but nothing seemed like forever until Debbie died peacefully on the night of Koa's Popsicle Day.

We spent the day singing and celebrating life the day my friend slipped into the cosmos. I suppose, in a way, Debbie would have approved. I took Koa out to what is left of our cosmo patch and for the first time, I had to explain to my little love how her best buddy turned into a star. I put a small white cosmo flower in her hand to hold close. "You can still talk to her, Koa Bear”. We will always find Debbie in the cosmos.

Cosmos for our dear friends, The Cheben Family for their loss and for the life they gave us while we had them so close to home. Our daughter will always know the love that made her first years on Earth so very special because of you, and because of Miss Debbie Debbie.

Original Post : October 26, 2022

I call this place, Trader Sam's

I’m still not entirely sure what happened today. All I know is I have 8 paper bags of groceries, a bundle of Gerbera daisies, and tears running down my face. I find the most amazing people in the most unusual places- and today- it was at Trader Sam’s.

It is no secret one of my favorite places on earth to relax and gather my thoughts is at the grocery store. I love it. I even lit up the online request page to bring Trader Joes to my new town in Texas when I moved to Amarillo. So this week while I journeyed up to Denver to get a lil piece of home while processing life, I found myself at Trader Joes In Littleton, Colorado.

Besides the fact their floral department was well stocked, flawless, and fairly priced, AND it is fall AND the cinnamon brooms smelled like heaven, I found everything but flowers that visit and soaked up all the good feels around every isle. Though my cart was noticeably full, my heart was a little empty that day with everything going on.

Rolling up to the check out, a gorgeous lady named Sam working her tail off was spreading sunshine to every single person that was in line before me. “Where have you been? It has been forever!” she said while scanning the lava cakes I knew I didn’t need. I had seen her before but in most places, my anxiety tells me I am invisible, be invisible, you are invisible. “I am back visiting family and helping some friends this week- it is so good to see you!”. Truthfully I hadn’t been around in several months and to my surprise she put her finger in the air and exclaimed “The hairdresser! That’s right you are the hairdresser”. In one word, wow- great memory and my introverted soul smiled that in passing, I had been remembered by someone.

We talked away as she sifted through all my favorites I had missed from home and marveled at our parallel life stories in healing and our return from incredible change. Her daughter, Lisa had an almost identical car accident and happened to be an amazing artist and gardener. What are the odds. I handed over a card for Odin & Koa and revealed how I found healing in my garden and I hope that her daughter finds the same. She threw her arms around me in a hug I didn’t realize I needed so desperately and in that instant- I found the fullness in Trader Joe’s that I couldn’t find on the shelf.

I swiped my card and Sam takes my cart… “follow me”. Sam lead me over to the flowers I had admired when I arrived and waved her hand across the sea of color. “Pick one. Today you get spoiled. These flowers are for you”. I held back my tears and wondered WHY. What triggered that moment. What did I say. What just happened. “Flowers for the Flower Lady”.

Sam and I walked my groceries to the truck and finished one of the most profound conversations I have ever had with a stranger. We ended with another great big hug and I cried the whole way home looking at my bundle of beautiful Gerbera Daisies from Sam. Flowers bring everyone together.

I don’t know at this point in my life all that I believe, but there have been very few encounters with truly pure and beautiful souls that make me believe in goodness. It brings me to a place of understanding that there is something out there in the cosmos looking down on my life and shining light through people in the most precious and unexpected moments. Thank you for your kindness, Sam.

Really, thank you.

Trader Joe’s- I hope this letter finds you.