Why Do I So Love Poppies?

Several people have asked me about the image on the landing page of my site, the field of red poppies. It’s a beautiful image, and it’s appeared in enough places that it’s been noticed. This post is the bit of long overdue explanation.

The photo was taken by my good friend Linda Nickell some years back. I met Linda quite by accident, sitting next to her on a plane not once but twice. We discovered that we had something awful in common, but we also found so many similarities and outlooks and things that brought us joy. We met regularly for lunch, then dinner, then did weekend camping trips. (She thought that I might be able to keep her alive, and I did.) One evening, we met for TexMex and glorious queso, Linda arrived carrying a large square of cardboard, which she promptly handed to me. I opened it, and found a large print of that poppy field that I so loved.

“You can get a really cheap frame at Michael’s,” she said.

I gave her a withering look. “Linda,” I said, “I love this picture. I’m not putting a cheap anything on it.” And then I took my beloved poppies and a few other things I’d been meaning to have framed and spent a lot of time and money at the framing store.

But just what is it with me and the poppies?

Poppies are a flower of remembrance, honoring those who died in the First World War. My husband and I have been to France many times, and we’ve walked many of those battlefields. Poppies greeted those soldiers then, and they greet them still today. But poppies also have a deeper, much more personal meaning to me. They bloom from blood, from pain, and ask us to remember even as we move forward. I’ve had years that have taken everything from me, that have forced me to the lip of the abyss and made me question what I was willing to do and to withstand in order to live. Those poppies are a visible reminder that life comes back, that I came back, even from war-torn soil.

When Linda next came to our house, I brought her into my office to show her the framed image. It turned out beautifully, a dark walnut frame to match the dark heart of the poppies. I keep it above my desk, an invite for me to come and walk the fields, to remember who I am and what private wars I’ve walked. I am fortunate, so very fortunate, to have people that allow me to call them friends. May we all have Lindas in our life, those who are generous with time and belief and faith.

Photo credit for this blogpost is Linda Nickell. Find her on Instagram as @coznlinda.