Loving the Roots, Not Just the Flowers

A quote that is attributed to American song writer Jade Jackson resinated with my grandson, Benjamin “When people fall in love with someone’s flowers, but not their roots, they do not know what to do when autumn comes.”

It got me thinking, it is a poetic way of saying what many of us eventually learn—sometimes the hard way—about love: it cannot survive on beauty, charm, or fleeting moments alone. The “flowers” represent the best parts of someone—their laugh, their success, their energy, their outward confidence. But the “roots”? The roots are their fears, their past, their struggles, their quirks, the quiet parts of them that don’t bloom for the world to see.

And autumn always comes.

There will be days when the flowers fade—when life gets hard, when one of you is grieving, exhausted, frustrated, or afraid. There will be seasons when the joy is harder to find, when the weight of responsibility dulls the shine of who you both used to be. If love has only taken root in what is easy, or pretty, or polished, it ca not withstand these moments.

Real, lasting love begins when we fall not only for how someone shows up when the sun is shining, but for how they endure the storms. It is in knowing their past and not flinching. It is in loving the parts they are still learning to accept themselves. It is in choosing them on their worst day, not just their best.

It is easy to love someone’s potential. It is harder, and far more meaningful, to love their truth.

In Tracks of Our Tears and From Promise to Peril, I tried to weave this idea into the love stories that unfold amid war, displacement, fear, and trauma. When you strip away everything—possessions, certainty, even safety—what remains is the soul of a person. And if that is what you have come to love, then the relationship can survive any season.

A long-lasting relationship is not built on the flowers alone. It is built on daily choice. On knowing the full story. On seeing someone for exactly who they are—and staying.

So the question becomes: Do you love someone’s flowers? Or have you taken the time to know, understand, and love their roots?

Because only one of those loves knows what to do when autumn comes.

​