Saturday. 19th Novemebr 2011.
My heart was heavy as I woke up early to get ready for the journey to Golders Green.
This feeling was completely opposite to the feeling I had when I woke up on a Monday morning to attend a floristry course with Jane Packer some years ago.
I remember driving to Maida Vale where she lived and was expecting to meet her at the school, which was in the basement of her home. I rang the bell with great enthusiasm and she opened it, smiled and told me that if I were there for the course, I would have to go via the side gate which led down a flight of steps. I was like a child who had just met someone important who was soon to be my inspiration in all I do in the world of glamorous flowers!
There were about sixteen of us, three English ladies, twelve Japanese cuties and me. We all had our aprons with our names stuck on and when Jane saw my name, she asked if I have got someone else's apron. 'No, miss. I am indeed Nicole and I am not a Akiko, Suri or Namiko, and I am from Singapore!' to which she blushingly apologised for mistaking me to be Japanese. So popular was her amongst the Japanese that they had all had their preliminary training in Japan before they came over for the real thing - lessons with her.
She taught us how to be discerning in our choice of flowers, grouping of colours, adding textures and most of all, and I will never forget this - to be extremely critical of your own work. 'Always remember to do the best you can, no short cuts, no leaves below the tie point, neat wiring and always strive to be the best...' There were endless advice on how to be good at what one does.
The crowds congregated in front of the chapel which broadcasted the quiet tune of 'Morning has broken', welcoming the hearse which brought a tear to many an eye.
Her friend, Carole Davis, did a reading and composed a poem especially for Jane. She revealed that Jane had often spoken about being able to do all those things - being more intellectual and using words to express her feelings. Her friend reminded her that no one could have been more talented than her in her work with flowers.
The Chapel was packed with close friends, relatives and friends of her children. The altar was decorated with her favourite white flowers of delphiniums, lilies, avalanche roses, white hydrangeas and stephanotis. She laid under the most beautiful mound of cream avalanche roses punctuated with white hydrangeas and stephanotis. The scent which filled the chapel exudes from the many short stems of narcissus in small frosted glasses punctuated by similar glasses with flickering tea-lights, adding a calm and peaceful feeling all round.
My favourite anthem Ave Maria by Schubert was sung hauntingly by a lady whom I could not see owing to the crowds.
The last hymn 'All things bright and beautiful' was particularly appropriate to Jane as nature has always been a big part of her work.
'... each little flower that opens...', '...the tall trees in the greenwood....', '...the meadows for our play...',
There were quite a few floral tributes from people who have worked with her and of course, her loving and supportive family, all done in the style that is so Jane Packer. The hatbox theme was evident and a favourite.
I will always remember her as one who is kind, generous and never afraid to correct. From her, I learnt to see the beauty of hydrangeas, amaranthus (also known as love lies bleeding),fruit incorporated into arrangements and the observations of the changing seasons, amongst a thousand other things. Her books are often referred to time and time again and most of all, her teaching DVD is a constant reminder of the days I spent down in that basement with many kindred spirits.
I see her smiling at everyone at Covent Garden, I see her smelling the tuberose and feeling the tactile amaranthus, and listening to the hum of people rushing around collecting their flowers early in the morning... can you?
I shall miss you very much, Miss.
