“Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true”
~ Lyman Frank Baum quotes
When my parents first decided on the name Rainbows for their one of a kind boutique flower shop, one year shy of three decades back, they couldn’t have had any idea how fitting that moniker would turn out to be. The extraordinary business they built from nothing has lived through the arc of a rainbow; climbing toward the sky before descending to the other side of the horizon and disappearing into the mystery of tomorrow.
They created a market where one didn’t exist before, bringing a European bucket shop into the city. Rainbows carried the high end flowers found in the chic shops of Santa Monica, Pasadena, and West Hollywood and sold them for next to nothing in Long Beach. Their business model was based on volume and it worked well for a wide width of time.
After three amazing decades, the brick and mortar mercantile has fallen subject to the iron law of diminishing returns. That picture you see was shot by my sister. It shows the final shrunken display that will ever sit beneath that particular rainbow. Trends have shifted and the business of buying budget bundles of flowers has drifted to the wider aisles of the local grocer. The particular cocktail of tapered margins and reduced foot traffic has left it imprudent to fritter long days idle inside the store, awaiting the echo of footsteps while a multiplicity of eager commerce is lingering online.
The store is now closed, its final satisfied customer leaving with a smile just two weeks ago. The store has been run by my father for the last fifteen years, my sister and I standing by his side during the majority of that time. He is now moving the business to a studio space that will be closed to foot traffic, but still open to online and telephone orders. My father is now thirty years older than he was on that sunny September day when my parents first threw open their doors and crossed their fingers.
There is no sadness beget by the closing of Rainbows’ doors. The business of running a flower shop is exhausting and the overhead extortionate. By removing a single avenue, my pop will effectively, and exponentially, widen his potential. Our family is proud of the store’s storied history and the legacy it leaves behind. Our only sadness comes from the countless faces who have crossed the threshold to order flowers for family gatherings, weddings, and parties, or simply because there are fewer ways to more precisely say, “I Love You.”
The store must close its physical doors because it is an appropriate time to do so, but the memories shall swirl inside our minds forever. The end of this arc has led to a new sunset, every sunset precedes a new tomorrow.
Writer Dad
Sean Platt is a ghostwriter, creative blogger, and occasional potty training expert.
