An Envelope Full of Leaves.

Today was like any other day. Almost. Busy, full of cleaning, cooking, and working. Today though, there was even more cleaning than usual, as Little Richi seemed to have come down with the stomach bug last night at church. He threw up, we left and came home, and thus began what would occur for the remainder of the night. So, needless to say, I didn’t sleep more than an hour last night – and neither did he. I spent the majority of the day sanitizing things, washing things that were thrown up on, and hustling to get work done and turned in by deadline today.

And then, the UPS man came.

I opened the door, a bit curious as to what could be arriving today. I knew I hadn’t ordered anything, and wasn’t expecting anything. I figured it must have been something one of the boys ordered.

I was wrong. I saw a manilla envelope with my mom’s handwriting on it, addressed to me.

It’s not unusal for me to receive packages from her – on the contrary, I get them all the time. But, to receive one unnanounced was odd. She has never not told me that I would be getting something UPS, so this was a strange surprise.

I flipped the envelope over, trying to decide which end to open it from. I chose the side that had, “We love you” printed on it, and carefully began to peel back the sticky glue. Whatever was inside felt strange; unlike anything I have ever felt inside an envelope before. It sort of felt like a chain link necklace, or how one might feel underneath thick paper such as this.

I finally got it open, and what was inside made me laugh so hard out loud – and then, within a moment’s time, I burst into tears. Full blown cried my eyes out. I smelled the contents, closed my eyes, and cried even harder.

It was an envelope full of leaves. Pine needles, ‘helicopters’ from the maple trees, and other bits of leaves and twigs. It smelled like my childhood, and instantaneously I was transported back to that place and time. I haven’t been home to Massachusetts in 20 years. It was certainly an incredible flood of emotion I wasn’t expecting, and certainly wasn’t ready for.

All at once in that moment, I realized how much I miss the beautiful, crisp fall days, the crunch of leaves beneath my feet, the innocense of lying on the ground underneath the large Maples and watching the hundreds of helicopters rain down, falling all over me, and all around me. It invoked the nostalgia of raking huge leaf piles and jumping in with my brothers. It reminded me of hay rides, cool walks to and from the school bus, and apple picking season. Oh, the memories it brought back.

I guess I really am more homesick for the place than I really knew. Not the people, save for my mother. But, the place. Oh, do I miss the smell of the air. Especially in the fall. I miss the sound of the deafening silence when fresh snow has fallen at midnight. The bluish glow the moon casts across the sparkling terrain…I miss these moments. I miss the memory of it all.

This package full of leaves came about as I had been explaing to my husband last week what helicopters were. He was born in Baltimore, but raised in Tampa – so he never experienced the magic of helicopters. A few days later, my mom and I were on the phone, and she complained to me, “I’m so sick of these stupid helicopters falling all over the porch.”

“Hey! I was just telling Richi about those!” I exclaimed. “What’s wrong with a little bit of leaves all around?” “A little bit?”she exclaimed. “They are everywhere, and they’re annoying!” she said. “I miss them,” was my response. “I haven’t seen them since I was little. We don’t have Maples here in Florida, you know. I wouldn’t be mad at them. I’d dance in them.” She laughed, not really understanding, but knowing I’m not always easy to understand. “Maybe I should box them up and send them to you then,” she said, laughing. That was the end of the discussion.

Three days later, this package arrived. And honestly, it couldn’t have been any more perfect. To 99.9% of the world, getting an envelope full of leaves and twigs is probably the stupidest thing they could ever receive. But to me…it meant the world. It was everything. And I will never forget that moment, nor would I ever trade it for anything.

Just an envelope full of leaves. But to me, it meant the world.