NORMAN — I’ve never beat around the bush about how bad of a gardener I am. In fact, I think I’m pretty open about that.
I always have good intentions. I’ve planted tomatoes. I’ve planted watermelons even. That was my more adventurous planting experience. I’ve planted flowers, of course. And they’ve all died and none of those deaths were very humane.
Having said all of that, you can only imagine that I was a bit perplexed eight years ago when someone entrusted me in the care of a house plant. At first, I thought this wonderful gift was going to my new beginning. I guess you could say I was going to turn over a new leaf in life. I watered the plant. I changed out its soil on a fairly regular basis. I made sure it had the proper amount of sunlight, and I even talked to it a few times a day. I was the model plant parent.
But, like usual, my feelings for the peace lily began to wane. Waterings became few and far between and sunlight was never an option. I really should have probably had a third party intervene a long time ago and remove the plant from my home to a more respectable environment.
And, I’m not proud of this, earlier in the week I happened to glance over at the plant, that same plant that’s managed to stick it out all these years, and I asked myself, “When was the last time I watered the green life sitting in the corner of my living room?” I didn’t have an answer to my own question. I looked at the brown, brittle leaves and I felt nothing but shame. How could I have done this to something so helpless?