The ones I love grew a passion for flowers.

Growing up, I spent as much time as possible at my grandparents’ farm. I remember her vegetable garden well—it provided for the whole family. There were flower beds around, but it wasn’t until later in life, after they moved off the farm, that the flower gardens became the highlight of their days. Every time you arrived in the summer, the first thing we did was take a tour of the garden.

As a kid, hens and chicks were my favorite—mostly because of the name, and the way Grandpa would beam with pride over all the tiny new sprouts. To this day, there’s nothing quite like the smell of peonies that brings me right back to my Grandma D’s garden.

My Grandma L. also had flowers, but she had a stroke when I was young, so I didn’t have as much time with her. Still, the smell of lilacs always brings her to mind. I think it’s because I would pick them each spring and leave them for her.

Now my kids are growing up surrounded by their grandmas’ gardens. When I think of roses, I think of my mother-in-law. She has the most beautiful roses and poppies that always bring me back to her garden. My mom grows irises, lilies, and peonies. The purple iris especially makes me think of my late sister, who loved purple.

Is there a flower that takes you right back to your favorite garden?

That’s really the “why” behind the flower farm. Flowers spark memories—memories that bring us joy. For years I used to say, “Why buy flowers if they just die?” But over time, I’ve found them to be such a simple and meaningful source of joy. They’re easy to share, and they have a way of brightening someone’s day in a way that feels both small and significant.

I’ve battled depression on and off over the years, and I’ve come to realize what a powerful mood-lifter a fresh bouquet of flowers can be. My hope is that these flowers will bring joy to our community—even on the hard days. That in their simplicity, you might find a little bit of light.

In 2026, I’ve come full circle—moving the flower farm onto my Grandma L’s property. A place that once held quiet memories is now being filled again with life, color, and new stories.

— Aliza Anderson