A Family Secret Hidden in Plain Sight
Later that evening, curiosity got the better of me. I took one of the tiny tubes and showed it to a relative — my grandfather’s brother, a man whose memory stretched far beyond fashion trends and modern habits.
He threw his head back and laughed with sheer delight.
“You don’t know what that is?” he teased. “That’s a miniature vase for a suit pocket. A buttonhole vase. Men used them back in the day.”
A vase. For a jacket.
The idea sounded almost mythical. And yet, the more he explained, the more everything clicked into place.
These little tubes weren’t decorations.
They weren’t stirrers.
They were tiny water-filled containers designed to hold a single flower, slipped discreetly into the breast pocket of a gentleman’s coat.
A touch of charm that remained fresh all evening. A gesture so subtle that most people would never notice at all.
I held the glass differently after that — not as an object, but as a piece of history.
In that moment, the dusty cardboard box turned into something else entirely: a time capsule of forgotten elegance. And my great-uncle, sensing my fascination, kept going.
