My Florist

When I was a little girl, my grandparents lived across the street from a florist shop. I spent many a weekend with my Ma Ma Ellen. She would often walk us across the street to look at the window display. We never went inside, but we just looked in through the windows. There was always something to see in the big front windows. Flowers. Holiday displays. Huge stuffed animals.

Walking through the hospital, we always pass the florist shop. Emma always stops to "ruff ruff" at the stuffed dogs in the window. She always stops at the figurine display. Probably the reasons Emma won't be an inside visitor are the same reason I wasn't as a child. I just couldn't help noticing the parallel today, and it was a sweet, sweet memory. Emma has her own My Florist.