A friend of mine posted on social media a picture of her winter garden with a caption that indicated she was waiting for it to grow. This post resonated with me. I was wondering how to write about what is going on with me but the issue is that I am waiting for things to grow.
I have the brownest thumb, and I'm not talking about my skin color. I love the idea of plants. I remember going for my Master's and they made me learn how to grow a bean seed. I brought to university my plastic bag with a wet napkin to show that I can germinate something. I remember doing this activity in my class and having little beans sprout up from the plant and sending the plant home decorated for a Mother's Day activity. The kids would be so excited to see this ordinary bean grow into a little plant right there in a Dixie cut filled with dirt. They would watch every day to see if it had grown. Sometimes we would collect data. Sometimes we would draw what we saw. It was fun. My own seed, I would give away to the one that didn't wash his hands and for whatever reason didn't grow. I had a few back ups.
My friend has started collecting plants in her isolation. She has named them, she is invested in these plants' welfare. I understand this desire to see things grow. She posts her plants and in seeing them decorate her home, they are beautiful and they make her so happy. She tells me she is afraid that they will die. I understand this fear well. When the quarantine started, I brought the pothos plant Nancy gave me (Homeboy) home. There were about 4 plants germinated from this one plant. Homeboy, the plant, was social. When I first brought him to school, he didn't seem to like it much just hanging on the dusty shelf of my office. I moved him to the front office where he was touched and talked to and he thrived. He was a very social plant. At home, I fretted over these four plants. I cut and was able to propagate 6 more plants. But the ones that were already potted struggled in the areas I put them in. One day, I put Homeboy and one of his sons outside. The result was death. I was able to save one stem from what I think is the original plant. I watch as he tries to grow. The truth is that the plant is not doing well but I continue to watch and wait.
Why am I talking about plants and why are plants resonating with me? Relationships don't happen on their own, much like plants. I am in a relationship. I get questions. I want to address the questions. I want to write about it. I do. But the fact of the matter is that I'm waiting for things to grow. It's going well. Plants need water and light. Relationships need what they need, communication, trust and honesty. I'm happy and excited. I'm praying about it. I'm hopeful. I'm smiling as I write that one word, HOPEFUL. It's a big word. But really, my hope is in God who knows so much more than I do about growing plants, humans and relationships. Be worried for my little succulents. They aren't looking so well though.