There’s something interesting about items we have hanging around much longer than we should. I have just uncovered one such item. It’s a large pink piece of wrinkled tissue paper. The kind you use to surround gifts. I found it as I rummaged through wrapping paper last week while looking for ribbon for Kyle’s birthday gift. As I came across this large, wrinkled, pink piece of tissue paper I was transported back to a very special time in my life. I couldn’t believe it had been here all these years.
Flat, smooth, and pink, that’s how this sheet began some thirty some years ago, when I ran a mail order herb wreath making business. My kids were young and this was a small one woman show. My largest clients were buyers from Brooks Brothers in Manhattan. They bought them to give as gifts to clients and friends. They liked the idea of presenting a gift from such a rustic and unfamiliar land. My sister was one of those buyers and she brought me great business. Holding this last remnant of that previous time, I was reminded how I placed the brightly colored tissue paper under the wreaths before I mailed them. The colors of the wreaths were made all the brighter. They stood out beautifully.
The herbs and flowers were grown in my garden and gathered from local farms. They were all carefully dried and fashioned into wreaths. Each wreath had a meaning. Dried roses for love to include in a wedding wreath. Chamomile for patience to include in a new baby wreath. Sage for health.
This silly piece of tissue paper, the last one to remain, brought me back to the nights so long ago. To the times after my kids went to bed when I designed and carefully constructed those wreaths. It was the perfect way to end those busy days. It was my quiet time, surrounded by the likes of purple larkspur, fragrant rosemary and sage, and delicate white baby’s breath. I inhaled that crinkled piece of pink hoping to capture that time. But the scent was as lost as was that time so long ago. A deep sigh and into the recycle bin it went.