Flowers have long been a way to express what words cannot, quietly carrying the weight of our goodbyes. Across continents and cultures, they have marked our partings, intrinsically tied to our lives on this earth and offered in love when it is time for us to leave. This ritual stretches back over 11,700 years; a gesture so ancient it feels woven into the fabric of being alive.
For me, there’s something especially comforting about everlasting flowers as an offering of love to those experiencing loss and grief. Their change of state is a gradual one. Dried flowers don’t ask for water or attention. Instead, they exist quietly (a little paler and more subdued than their fresh counterparts) asking for less, but staying a great deal longer too. They change almost imperceptibly.
In this slow shifting, they no longer echo the shock of loss.
I think this sense of continuity is often what draws people to dried flowers for farewells — an enduring, tangible reminder of the people we carry with us. When the rhythms of daily life begin again and the world continues to turn, as it must, these delicate creations remain. Long after fresh sympathy flowers have faded, dried sympathy bouquets can take up a quiet corner of a home, offering a soft reminder once the cards have been put away and the fresh flowers composted.
Sending dried sympathy flowers can be a delicate way to show those who are hurting how loved they are. There’s no need to find a vase even, or to remember to refresh the water after a few days. For those of us who have experienced the deep grief of losing someone we love, even the smallest acts, like getting dressed in the morning, can feel like an impossible mountain to climb.
Dried flowers feel honest to me. They represent the culmination of many months of love and care, a lasting reflection of the landscape I get to call home and the way I like to make things. slowly, thoughtfully, and with deep respect for the natural world. I have nurtured these plants from seed to harvest, protected them when they were delicate seedlings, admired them when they became strong, robust plants in full bloom, and when they are ready to harvest, marvelled at every single stem that has come to pass through the wonder that is Mother Nature.
What a gift it is to work with these plants. to be in deep relationship with nature in this way, and therefore able to offer them as a means of showing love to those experiencing loss.