I know my family thought I was crazy, bringing back another plant after a church market one Sunday. Just one more colorful pot to add to the growing collection in my room.
My plant obsession began this past summer, before college began. I had read a few articles about how having plants in your room is supposed to help you feel happier. Plus, Home Depot was selling a bunch of cacti for three dollars each, so how could I possibly resist?
Beatrice, a pink moon cactus, and Chester, a small golden-barrel cactus, made their homes on the bookshelf in my newly painted, “dormified” bedroom. Right before classes began, I added an African violet (cleverly named Violet). Then a calluna heather, named Heather. In mid-autumn came along Archie and Arthur, of the Echeveria family. The newest addition is Humphrey, a Greek oregano living on my windowsill in a bright heliotrope pot.
My general affection for plants began in my childhood. My mom was, and still is, an avid gardener. She has plants today that are older than my older sister and I, bought before we were born, and they have survived multiple cross-country moves. My mom has grown vegetables, herbs, flowers, and houseplants. She’s one of those people who has a “green thumb”; she can just look at a plant and know what to do with it. Growing up, we were always outside, and if us kids were not gardening, my mom certainly was.
I have tried to follow in her footsteps, to little avail. Violet, whom I mentioned previously, is no more. Maybe it’s because African violets are fickle plants (according to some websites), or maybe she really should have been planted outside instead of in a pot (according to others). She’s dead and I cannot do anything about that now, but I am determined to keep my remaining plant family alive.
My eventual goal is to have an herb garden and to start learning more about natural medicine. Perhaps that is really just a cover for being able to spend time with my mother. We are both busy these days, me with school full-time, her with work. The weekends at home are nice, when I can ask her questions about gardening and follow her example. The year has flown past: it’s almost December. In my heart I know that the next few years of my college journey will pass at the same quick rate. There is no time to waste, so I try to spend that time with my family.
For the rest of 2023, I am going to stick to my succulents and the heather and oregano. Hardy plants that will most likely survive my mishaps with watering them and getting them sunlight. In the spring though, I plan to begin my herb garden. The thing about plants, and perhaps the moral of this story, is that they require dedication. Perhaps before college, and the maturity that came along with it, I did not have the commitment to cultivating my plants, and that is why they died. Maybe not. I don’t really know. But I do know I will continue to work on my cultivating skills, with plants, in cultivating true friendships and relationships, and in cultivating myself into a responsible, accomplished young woman.