Carla,
Your aunt Verna May sent this poem to us many years ago when we were kids and our mum died.  It was a poem that I found comforting and have never forgotten.
Your mention of loving flowers brought the poem to mind and I thought I should pass it on to you.
Kit

Near a shady wall a rose once grew,

Budded and blossomed

in the Sun’s light,

Watered and fed by the morning dew,

Shedding its sweetness day and night...

As it grew and blossomed fair and tall,

Slowly rising to loftier height,

It came to a crevice in the wall

through which there shone a beam of light.

Onward it crept with added strength

With never a thought of fear or pride,

It followed the light through the crevice’s length

and unfolded itself on the other side.

The light, the dew, the broadening view

were found the same as they were before,

And it lost itself in beauties new,

Breathing its fragrance more and more.

Shall claim of death cause us to grieve

and make our courage faint and fall?

Nay! Let us faith and hope receive–

The rose still grows beyond the wall,

Scattering fragrance far and wide

Just as it did in days of yore,

Just as it did on the other side,

Just as it will forevermore. ~ A. L. Frink

You would have been 78 today mum. I bought you flowers. I love flowers as much as you do! Thinking back on past birthday celebrations, we would go out for a nice dinner, somewhere special. You would love the flowers and cards that you received. We’d probably indulge in chocolate cake and maybe too much wine. But I know what you cherish most is the time with your friends and family. You had the best laugh. 
When it’s warmer, I’m going to plant some lilacs and hydrangeas in your honour. Beautiful colours, beautiful scents - and they will be a tribute to your amazing spirit, always. Love you always, Carla

One story I love so much about mum that shows her humour and spirit is when she first met my dad. She and her friends had just arrived in Vancouver from Toronto and were throwing a housewarming party. My dad came with friends, and was completely enraptured by mum. He followed up for two weeks after, hoping to see her again. One day mum happened to be home and overheard her roommate saying into the phone with much exasperation “for the last time, there is NO Hildegard Schwartz that lives here!” Mum said it was the most unattractive name she could think of. But she took the call :

My family can't get through a birthday, Christmas or any other gifting occasion without someone teasing mum how she once yelled "don't throw out that tissue paper, it's like GOLD."

Mum, you are the original reduce, re-use, recycle champion. xoxo

When I was very young, mum said one of my favourite items of clothing was a hand-me-down old sweatshirt that had a hot dog on it and the caption was "Franks a million!". It was a plastic, puffy addition that was starting to crack and peel off - but I loved wearing this sweatshirt. Mum was determined to have me looking a little more refined for my dentist appointment that morning - and fought to get the sweatshirt off me and into a blouse and vest. She said I cried and ripped apart the outfit on the way to the appointment. She would laugh retelling this story - meant to illustrate my stubbornness - but I know she would have given the office people a chuckle with her warm way of explaining our lateness and my....dishevelment! I will miss you telling me stories about me, mum xo