One of my favorite things to do when visiting my parents is admiring my father's latest plants or flowers. The man is truly talented, born with a magical green thumb that I never inherited. Those pretty peach blossoms? They were completely dry, and inevitably dying the last time I saw them. But somehow my father has breathed life into them once again, their petals now blushing such a healthy, pretty pink hue.
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Manfriend has had some African violets sitting on the kitchen window sill for quite some time now, a small gift received years ago from a friend and coworker. I noticed nothing but leaves in its pot the first time I laid eyes on it. And so I started to give the flowers more water to drink, and I turn their faces towards the warmth of the sun every morning. I sing them love songs when I wash the dishes in the evenings.
Yesterday, we took a good look at them. Surprised, we loudly marveled at how deeply colorful and bountiful they have become in such a short amount of time.
In the long run, it's amazing how the little things can make all the difference.
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He recently gave me some beautiful orchids; one of my favorites, to care for and call my own. But a single branch with blooming buds and flowers sadly did not survive the ride home, breaking off, landing softly and solemnly into the palm of my hands as soon as I unwrapped the plastic cover that was supposed to protect it.
Plants are like people, they react to love and attention, the lover simply said. Be patient. It'll be just fine as long as we look after it. And with that he tenderly examined the plant and carefully felt its soil. It has become our little child. I've become obsessed with not letting it die.
I can't let it die. I won't let it.
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And my mother. After all these years, my mother still calls me ma plus belle des fleurs de tout le monde; her prettiest of all the flowers in all of the world.
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"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom."
–Marcel Proust
1 comment:
wow, your father sounds so much like my mother! she can seriously bring any dead plant alive. she has a jungle (indoors and in the green house) of orchids, and other pretty flowers and plants. :) i actually took photos and made an album of her garden as a gift last Christmas. i'll see if i can link it to you sometime! i assume your parents can probably identify the rare blooms of certain flowers.
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