Plants

Mom really loved plants. For as long as I can remember, she was taking care of plants, clipping them and transplanting to new pots, and enjoying plants outdoors as well. I'm sure her love of plants influenced the fact that I grew up across the street from a park.

I was recently emailing her cousin, Wayne, who teaches horticulture. I found out that he also has a plant business! Mom would have loved to hear about that. She would have been very interested in the methods and processes to transplant different species, and the many other interesting things that go along with working with living things.

I have long regretted not being better with plants. When mom moved from her apartment on Second Avenue, she brought many of her plans to our house. Being fearful of the dog or cat eating the plant (and becoming ill), or digging and making a mess, I left many of the plants outside. Sadly, most died due to my lack of skills, lack of care, or a combination of the two. I feel bad to this day about killing her plants, which she loved so much.

I did manage to keep her ficus alive- it was the one plant I knew to keep indoors, and deep down I knew it was also her favorite. I still have it, and it is doing great.

I hope she wasn't too sad or mad about the plants I killed. I should have been more interested in her hobby growing plants, and more understanding of their importance. Maybe she didn't care because she knew she could always grow more. I do get a bit sad thinking of her last apartment, which totally lacked plants. Not that she had any room for them, but I can't help but think it may have brightened her days.