There are stories that stop you in your tracks—not because they’re loud, but because they’re quietly strong.
This is one of them.
Meagan Whittinghill is 35. She lives in Brandon now, but she’ll tell you she’s “from Quitman, Mississippi—a little bitty, tiny town.” And like so many Mississippi women, she’s always been a creator at heart. “I’ve made things my whole entire life,” she said.
That creativity once shaped her career, too. Before her health declined, Meagan worked for Sunbelt Lighting as a designer and account executive, using her artistic eye to help clients bring spaces to life—guiding everything from color and temperature to fixture design. It was detailed, creative work. The kind that requires both vision and precision.
These days, that creativity looks a little different—but it’s still very much there.
And at the center of it all is her 10-year-old daughter, who gets a front-row seat to what resilience really looks like.
Yet, the journey to Cypress Hollow & Co. was far from smooth.
After years of living with Chiari malformation—a condition she was diagnosed with at just 21 after a sudden, terrifying onset of symptoms—Meagan finally underwent brain surgery on November 10. It was a major procedure, one that quite literally required surgeons to create more space for her brain.
However, her recovery has taken an unexpected turn.
She still lives with constant dizziness, nausea, vertigo, and pain. She hasn’t been able to drive since August. She hasn’t been able to return to work. And like so many navigating chronic illness, she’s also managing a complex web of diagnoses—POTS, hEDS, and suspected MCAS—conditions that often go misunderstood.
“It’s just really frustrating when you’re suffering, and nobody understands it,” she shared.
So she did what Mississippi women often do:
She created something.
A few months ago, when she started to feel “just a tiny bit better” after surgery, Meagan looked around at the mounting medical bills and knew she needed to try something.
“I was like, I am drowning in medical costs. I’ve got to do something.”
She already had the supplies. She’d always loved car freshies—those small, colorful pieces that hang from a rearview mirror and somehow make a space feel brighter.
She’d just never had the time.
“Whenever I was working, I never had time to do it,” she said. “And now I’m like, well… this is a good time to try.”
What started as a way to help with expenses quickly became something more.
“It’s been good for my hand-eye coordination and some neurological problems I’m having… kind of therapeutic.”
Cypress Hollow & Co. was born.
The name itself feels like Mississippi.
It comes from a memory—one of those slow, quiet, almost sacred moments that stick with you.
“My husband pulled off the river into this cypress hollow… the sun was shining through the trees. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”
That image—still water, filtered light, rooted trees—now lives on in every piece she makes.
Each freshie is handcrafted, often taking 20 to 30 minutes, depending on the design. She gravitates toward simple, beautiful molds—hydrangeas, soft shapes, things that feel calm instead of overwhelming.
And if you’ve seen them, you know: they’re more than freshies. They’re little pieces of art.
At first, business was slow.
“I tried to give them to my friends… like here, take this, see if you like it,” she laughed.
Her hands shook. Her confidence wavered. But she kept going.
And then, momentum began to build.
“As I’ve gotten better, I’ve gotten more confident… and it’s grown a lot.”
Support started showing up—in the most Mississippi ways possible.
Her husband’s coworkers—“these big men,” she said with a smile—began ordering freshies for their trucks and homes. Friends shared her work. Strangers became customers.
In time, survival gave way to connection.
But if you ask Meagan what matters most, it’s not just the business.
It’s purpose.
After surgery, during some of her hardest days, she wrestled with something deeper.
“I was so sad… I was like, I can’t help anybody,” she said.
She had always been someone who gave—to others, to her community, to anyone who needed it.
And suddenly, her life looked different.
But even in a hospital room, she found her answer.
“He has truly used me everywhere I’ve been,” she said of her faith. “It’s just not the way I thought it was going to be.”
Today, every freshie she sells helps cover the very real cost of medications, medical supplies, and ongoing appointments.
But it also does something else.
It brings a little joy into someone’s day.
“It was one of the things that made me happy… getting a new freshie and seeing it every day,” she said.
And now, she gets to be the one creating that feeling for someone else.
Cypress & Hollow Co. is still growing. She hopes to eventually add more products—even returning to her hand-hammered brass jewelry when she’s able.
But for now, it’s one piece at a time.
One order at a time.
One day at a time.
And maybe that’s the part of this story that stays with you.
Because when you buy from Cypress Hollow & Co. you’re not just buying a freshie.
You’re helping a Mississippi mama keep going on the days that aren’t easy.
You’re helping cover the medications, the appointments, the unknowns.
You’re standing behind a woman who refused to let her story end in a hospital room.
And maybe that’s what makes this so special.
It’s not just something that hangs from your rearview mirror.
It’s a reminder—every single day—that even in the middle of pain, something beautiful can still take shape.
And sometimes, that’s exactly what we all need to see.
Follow Meagan’s story on TikTok here.
