What Sticks With You: Grandbabies, Mentors & the Lessons That Last
Lori is back from Ohio and already dreaming about her new grandson — literally. The first morning home she woke from a dream about him, texted her son, and learned the baby had a rough night ("It's because I was not there"). She marvels at what new parents have now, like 24/7 telehealth pediatrics that talked her kids off the ledge over a newborn's shallow breathing at 2 a.m. But mostly she's marveling at their community: family close by, church friends, wise people building into them. Which turns out to be the perfect segue into unpacking last week's solo episode — the one where Vonda worried out loud that "Lori's gonna think I don't have any empathy."
Yes, Vonda, you have empathy — it's just cognitive
Lori giggled at that line, then cried twice over the story of Ed, Vonda's late neighbor (her husband, watching her tear up over her own podcast, was understandably confused). Her verdict: Vonda absolutely has empathy — she just reserves it. Having been through a lot in her own life, Vonda knows people are going to come out the other side stronger, so she doesn't always pour out the emotional version. Lori calls this cognitive empathy, one of three types she'll be teaching in her session at AIFD Symposium. Her analogy: the ER triage nurse who listens to your wild story and calmly asks for your birthday. She wouldn't be in that job without empathy — but she has to gather what's needed to care for you first, because she knows you're going to be okay. Lori's own default is the opposite — the hugger who asks "do you need anything?" — and she admits she's learned to dial that back, because "a little over the top" doesn't always help either.
The professors who pointed the way (before flowers)
Vonda's episode also got Lori thinking about her own challengers — and how badly younger Lori received critique from people she didn't trust. ("If I have great respect for that person, they can critique me all day long... if I'm leery of them: right back at you.") Two professors made the shortlist, and neither had anything to do with flowers. Dr. Michael Pagano, a flip-flops-and-beard literature professor, kept telling her to keep writing — free form, journaling, essays on old movies — and fed the creative side she still uses. Dr. Andy Van Gundy, sharp in plaid shirts and a tie, was a working consultant who brought students along to facilitate communication seminars — including one for National Guard leadership across Oklahoma in the 1980s, teaching rooms full of men how to listen and speak to one another. On the plane home from Ohio it hit her: that's what she does now. She pictured herself in a big glass consulting firm; instead she's behind a computer at home — but she is doing exactly what she wanted to do, it just looks different. Her favorite line from the song Vonda quoted is the ending: we're led to those who help us most to grow, if we let them. At 21, she didn't always let them.
Photo shoot prep: real flowers, real people, no AI
Then the hosts switch horses to business: the big Flower Clique photo shoot is coming, covering fall, Christmas, and Valentine's Day all at once. Vonda has been heads-down on recipes, flower orders, and printed notebooks (yes, printed — it's part of the check system), while the web team preps new code behind the scenes. Lori has a famous love-hate relationship with shoot week — severe FOMO if she skips it, slightly miserable by day five — but this year they've rented a studio with natural light for more social media placements, with Vonda's granddaughters helping on social and corsage close-ups. Corsages, boutonnieres, and handhelds are on the docket; mercifully, no casket this time. Vonda also has a word for shops tempted to fill their websites with AI-generated arrangement photos: the designs aren't real-looking, and whoever tries to duplicate them is being set up for failure. She's equally wary of curating a website around only what you like — your customers span 20 to 80, so the goal is a range that stays true to your brand without designing for a single age (even if Lori will never love a sunflower, and Vonda will take a Free Spirit rose all day). Bonus prep tip: harvested pine cones get washed in vinegar water and baked at 250 degrees for an hour so no little buggies come to the shoot.
The $10 add-on idea from Shop Talk
From this week's Shop Talk: one member added two butterflies to Mother's Day arrangements for about ten dollars, and they sold out of the cooler left and right. Another member always tucks a ladybug on a sunflower. The hosts riff on the same play for other seasons — monarchs and bumblebees for fall, small ornaments or keepsake baubles for Christmas picked up at summer market. Any little pop that makes a piece feel slightly custom, takes no extra time, and adds five or ten dollars is worth a spot in your cooler.
Key takeaways
- Empathy comes in more than one flavor — cognitive, triage-nurse empathy is still empathy, and knowing your style helps you lead.
- Critique lands only where there's trust; build it before you challenge your team, and be willing to receive it yourself.
- Your mentors may have shaped you for work you couldn't imagine yet — the dots connect looking back.
- Skip AI product photos: real, well-planned photography protects your customers from designs no one can duplicate.
- Merchandise for all your customers' ages, not just your own taste — and use $5–$10 add-ons (butterflies, ladybugs, ornaments) for easy custom upsells.