All flowers die. It is a sad reality, but it also comes with the exciting possibility of bringing a fresh lot of flowers with the potential for unknown designs. Like any other end, it brings the possibility of hope, if only I could rise from my sadness at losing something that gave me pure happiness.

I have learnt that most beautiful flowers die rather quickly. Roses, dahlias, tulips, daffodils, and peonies are some examples. Greens, milk thistles, vines, lisianthus, ranunculi, marigolds (no worms, please!), carnations, daises, solidago, and chrysanthemums are ever ready for some second love and are quite long-lasting.

I have discovered that the conditions in the vases determine how flowers thrive and survive. If you do not choose flowers wisely for vases or overcrowd them, flowers die rather quickly. They need air to breathe. They need space to exist. They of course need water and cool temperatures. I have gotten away simply by changing water every two days, without adding any floral food.

I have not seen a more elegant decay than that of ranunculi. It does not droop. It does not bend. It does not wilt. It does not leave the water muddy. You can leave it undisturbed, and it maintains its shape. It is only when you touch it, to remove some wilted petals at the bottom of the flower, that the flower collapses. However, even in its collapse, it retains the healthier part of the flower and its alluring shape.

I have not seen a more sudden death than that of chrysanthemums. The suddenness with which chrysanthemums give up is quite shocking to me. They retain their shape and color, but simply break off at the necks when you think the time is right to trim them.

I have not seen a sadder death than that of roses. They brown and wilt, just like dahlias. The fragrance of roses morphs into something quite unfamiliar. The petals can be dried, but the resulting bloom does not look the same as the rose was in its life.

I have not seen a more pitiable death than that of beautiful, fragrant lilies. There is a fetid, sweet smell that you can bear no longer and hastily dispose of the flower. No goodbye or loving glances are given to lilies. All you care about is getting dying lilies away from your senses.

I have not seen a more repulsive death than that of the celosia flower. They die with a repulsive, musty odor. They maintain their looks, though. I do not have any words to describe their death, as they are best left alone in their decay.

Decay and death are an integral part of life. Decay and death are integral to flowers. You definitely need time to reset after the death of flowers. You need time to breathe. You need time to rediscover your creativity and your joy in engaging with flowers again. It is not easy, but it is certainly doable.