I truly believe that my career path was meant to be surrounded by beauty. Even as a child, I was observant of the changing seasons and the evolving landscape around me. Whether riding in the car or on the long school bus ride home, I'd marvel at the transformation. In the mountains, I'd pick wildflowers and arrange them into tiny bouquets, adorning our cabin porch.  Growing up in Eastern Idaho gifted me with breathtaking views—a lush green valley of barley fields or the majestic Teton Mountains on the horizon would take my breath away around every familiar corner. Landscapes changed as I grew up and traveled and lived in different places. I feel like all of those moments and more like them, shaped my appreciation for beauty and nature. and inspired my love for creating. My grandparents, particularly my grandmothers, were instrumental in nurturing my love for flowers and nature. 

Grandma Kona was like a second mother to me, and her home felt like my own growing up. Among her yard were the beautiful roses, including a delicate light pink hue that I fondly call 'Grandma pink.' As the seasons changed, flowering trees, tulips, and lilacs would burst into bloom, sometimes  painting the late spring snow. Memorial Day held a special tradition for us—we'd cut those spring flowers and take them to our ancestors' graves. Summers were spent at her home, where we'd help with yard work and picking flowers, lots of red geraniums, at the nursery.  To honor my Grandma Kona's memory and the special connection we shared, I've planted 'Grandma pink' roses and lilacs in my own garden.

I didn't have the chance to grow up with my Grandma Lois—she passed away when I was just a toddler—her presence is still deeply felt in my life. I can hear her voice and sense her spirit around me. My grandpa often remarked that I resemble her, which always made me feel like we had a connection. She faced challenges with mental illness, yet there was solace and happiness for her in her peony-filled yard. Today, those same peony plants were transplanted and grow in my dad's garden. It's a tradition for us to bring them to her grave when they bloom, a beautiful way to honor her memory and the joy she found among the flowers.

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