Written by Darla Mahoney
Flowers have always played an essential role in my life. My mom and I spent countless afternoons in the garden–planting, watering, and watching blooming petals emerge from the soil. I located the colors and the blossoms, but more than anything, I loved the time we shared in the garden. As I grew older, the garden got lost in our busy days, yet my love for the flowers never left me. Now, flowers enter my life broken from their roots, bundled together, wrapped in cellophane–a gift from my boyfriend or a symbol of celebration. Everyone around me could tell you that I love flowers; however, it was only recently that I came to understand why I truly love flowers, especially sunflowers. Rummaging through old photos from my childhood and our garden, I noticed that sunflowers were a prominent feature. Our photo albums are packed full of pictures of sunflowers, even in subtle ways.
Each summer, I spend a few weeks in Amsterdam, Netherlands, to coach at a youth field hockey camp. Each year, the camp director selects a theme for the camp; this year’s theme was sunflowers. There was no immediate explanation of how sunflowers could relate to my life as a field hockey coach, but it soon became very clear. On the first day of staff training, we were given the long-awaited explanation. Sunflowers, unlike many of their floral counterparts, are remarkably adaptable, resilient, and tough. We discussed just how these ideologies could support us through a week of fatigue, frustration, and reward. No matter what, sunflowers grow tall; they reach for the sun. ‘Rooted to Rise,’ the idea that just like sunflowers, we must have strong roots to withstand challenges to grow upward towards our goals.
The more we spoke about it, and the more time I had to reflect, I realized that sunflowers aren’t just about growth, but also about connection. Intuitively, they turn towards the light, yet they also turn towards each other when the sun is hidden: I was mesmerized. Just days after being introduced to the theme and rediscovering my love for sunflowers, my mom called. She had visited my grandmother’s grave that morning and noticed a lone sunflower in full bloom standing tall above her grave. Suddenly, ‘rooted to rise’ took on a new meaning. Knowing how much coaching means to me, how big an opportunity working this camp was, I knew at that moment that my grandma was with me. The idea that we were somehow connected, across the world, into the afterlife, brought back the same magical feeling as once planting the seeds with my mother.
