“In Lieu of Flowers” by Shawna Lemay

Although I love flowers very much, I won’t see them when I’m gone. So in lieu of flowers: Buy a book of poetry written by someone still alive, sit outside with a cup of tea, a glass of wine, and read it out loud, by yourself or to someone, or silently.
Spend some time with a single flower. A rose maybe. Smell it, touch the petals.
Really look at it.
Drink a nice bottle of wine with someone you love.
Or, Champagne. And think of what John Maynard Keynes said, “My only regret in life is that I did not drink more Champagne.” Or what Dom Perignon said when he first tasted the stuff: “Come quickly! I am tasting stars!”

Award-winning novelist, essayist and poet Shawna Lemay read a friend’s father’s obituary on Facebook a few years ago. His father had requested in lieu of flowers, please take a friend or loved one out for lunch. This post inspired the poem, “In Lieu of Flowers,” which offers readers many alternatives to sending flowers to those in mourning.

Though Lemay shares that she loves flowers, she understands they will do her no good once she is no longer here. Instead, she hopes those who miss her will read poetry, have a cup of tea, share a glass of wine with a friend — anything that celebrates what she will no longer have access to when she is gone.

Take out a paint set and lay down some colours.
Watch birds. Common sparrows are fine. Pigeons, too. Geese are nice. Robins.
In lieu of flowers, walk in the trees and watch the light fall into it. Eat an apple, a really nice big one. I hope it’s crisp.
Have a long soak in the bathtub with candles, maybe some rose petals.
Sit on the front stoop and watch the clouds. Have a dish of strawberry ice cream in my name.
If it’s winter, have a cup of hot chocolate outside for me. If it’s summer, a big glass of ice water.
If it’s autumn, collect some leaves and press them in a book you love. I’d like that.
Sit and look out a window and write down what you see. Write some other things down.
In lieu of flowers,
I would wish for you to flower.
I would wish for you to blossom, to open, to be beautiful.

Lemay invites readers to experience sensory moments in nature, at home in the bathtub or sitting by the window. The heart of her poem can be summed up in its last line: “I would wish for you to blossom, to open, to be beautiful.” The poet’s wish is not for decorations at her memorial service or gravesite, but for those who grieve her to go on living, to make the most of their days and enjoy their lives.

Poet Shawna Lemay
Credit: Instagram

Certainly those who leave us behind would want all of us to thrive and celebrate their memory by living life to the fullest. Doing so is a true and lasting tribute to a life well-lived.