Anthuriams

 

Anthuriums must be the ugliest flower in the world.

 

My friend Donna got married soon after our college graduation—soon enough that her college friends willingly traveled across several states to help celebrate the event.

 

Donna was tall, blonde, and pretty, but very retiring. When you met her mother, you understood why Donna was shy: her mother was a tall, blond, beautiful drama queen. When she entered a room, she drew every eye to herself. Every event was about her, including her daughter's wedding.

 

For the wedding, Donna's mother wore a form-fitting red satin dress. In the final half hour before the ceremony began, the mother rushed up and down the aisles, chatting, making last-minute adjustments to the decorations, and just generally drawing attention to herself.

 

Donna came down the aisle, demure in her bearing, as she always was, and wearing a traditional white dress. She was a sweet bride. Except for her flowers.

 

Until that day I had never heard of anthuriums (anthuria?). Seeing them for the first time as the feature flower of a wedding bouquet was surreal. My eye was pulled to those bright golden phalluses sticking out of the heart-shaped red flowers. I thought it was a joke. Surely these weren't real flowers! (The shiny, waxy surface of anthuriums convinces you that they are artificial.)

 

So there was sweet, shy Donna walking down the aisle holding a huge bouquet of phallic symbols.

 

I never knew who chose the flowers for that wedding bouquet, but I'll bet it had something to do with the mother of the bride wanting the bridal bouquet to match her own red satin dress.

 

 

Copyright 2012 Ann Tudor

www.anntudor.ca
http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com