Sunday, April 19, 2020

Growing things in the time of Covid

We only have two live plants in this house and they both remind me of lost people. 

That the only two living things in this house outside the humans are wrapped together with death and loss is a strange irony.

There is the peace lily in all it's glory, great green fans rising up and over it's pot, occasional crunchy brown leaves screaming that we still haven't found the exact right spot to put it. 

My husband's co-workers sent it to him upon hearing of the loss of his mother. 

She was a strong, kind, funny and enduring woman who loved her son so well that he carries the imprint of that love with him into every situation he faces. 

As that plant grows it reminds me of her, but also of the loss of her.

The only other plant to survive my black thumb is a small green, and sometimes red, holiday plant. We placed it in a yellow bowl in the window on the day our friend gave it to us. 

His beautiful wife had left this world not long before and that little plant is wrapped up in the missing her and in the way that she endures.

Now, in the time of Covid, when I rarely leave my house I notice these plants so much more often and inevitably when I do I remember two women who left imprints on my soul, and I mourn them and I ponder why we stay home now-- so as not to create more loss.

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