In 2000, my mother’s neighbor, a schoolteacher, suddenly lost her husband, who had served as a high school principal.
For two years, she did not come out of the house or engage people. Then, I decided to send her a dozen roses on Valentine’s Day in the name of her deceased spouse. The note asked her to keep love in her heart despite the loss.
She began to come back to life, engaging neighbors, slowly returning to her old self. I realized the first year after losing a spouse could be the toughest on a long-term spouse left behind.
I thought, if this could do that for her, what could it do for others? The next year, I tried it again with people from my church who had lost spouses the previous year. It had the same impact, so I kept going.
Some names came from my mother’s circle of friends, childhood neighbors or people I knew. I added in people from news headlines, deeply researching to gather information needed for delivery. I expanded the flowers to include stuffed animals or chocolates. I added men to the program.
Silas “SiMan Baby” Alexander, a radio colleague, decided to join me in my efforts. At one point, I told him maybe I should drop this activity. It’s only giving people flowers that won’t last more than a few weeks. He encouraged me to keep it going, reminding me the surprise element would bring joy to others, many being strangers I didn’t personally know. I took his advice.
Flowers to Widows uplifts compassion
Credit: Handout
Credit: Handout
The program grew each year, including honoring the victims of Atlanta’s horrifying 2005 courthouse shooting and violent aftermath. They were Superior Court Judge Rowland Barnes, court reporter Julie Ann Brandau, Fulton County Sgt. Hoyt Teasley and off-duty federal agent David Wilhelm.
Brandau’s daughter called me from Auburn University, where she was attending school. She was confused, stating it must have been a mistake because she didn’t qualify as a widow. I explained about the program, adding I could not exclude the loved ones left behind because she was intrinsically tied to such a tragic event.
The youngest recipient was an Atlanta Hawks player who experienced a sudden death in his 20s.
One recipient was former Fulton County Sheriff Myron Freeman, who sadly lost his wife, Pamela, due to complications from COVID. He not only expressed joy for the surprise gift in remembrance of his spouse but summitted a financial contribution.
I asked if he was going to give the stuffed teddy bear away. He chuckled, remarking, “I’ll keep it. It’s a reminder of my wife.”
That prompted me to ask men from the program: “Should I change men’s gift to a plant instead of flowers?” They all said no! The smell of flowers reminded them of their wife’s presence in the home.
I branded it the Flowers to Widows program, establishing a 501(c)3 in the name of my parents with the tagline “Compassion is Strength!”
A small gesture turned into impact
My father showed compassion when, as a construction contractor, he would hire men off the street who were recovering drug addicts to provide them with a means to earn a living. My mother was a civil rights activist who would take her kids out of school to attend marches for justice.
I was too young to know who John Inman was, but years later, I learned he was a police chief they wanted out of office. She also advocated for new school books along with neighbor C.T. Martin, who eventually became the district’s council representative.
This year marks 25 years of me surprising people on Valentine’s Day. It’s a challenge each year to identify and verify information needed for deliveries. The hardest time was when my colleague and nonprofit partner Silas Alexander passed away, and I had to include his spouse.
Credit: Rodney Ho
Credit: Rodney Ho
I cried throughout the entire process. His impact was so strong on my programs, and his dedication went beyond what most would commit. I thought about handing the program over to my church when a family member suggested that, since it was my baby, I needed to see it through to its fullest to maintain control over procedures.
This program changed my life. What began as a small gesture turned into more than two decades of impacting lives. I’m still not sure if it is as strong as my other programs, but bringing comfort to the recently bereaved has forever changed me.
Each year, there will be no complaints from me about what gift I will receive on Valentine’s Day or if my sweetie will be available for a great dinner out. I feel genuine joy and excitement every Feb. 14 from making someone else’s life a little brighter.
Audraine Jackson owns Jackson Communications, an industry-awarded communications business, and is the founder of J&V Cares Inc., an Atlanta nonprofit that brings joy into the recently bereaved and honors first responders every Sept. 11, including administering the Beyond the Call of Duty Awards. Her organization can be reached at www.jvcares.org.
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