Looking back, I am not sure what directions my life may have taken had it not been for the people who have come and gone over the years. From the greatest of friendships to the occasional acquaintance it is a general understanding that we all have an impact on one another as we navigate through life.
Many years ago, when my father passed away my mother ended up with a number of plants from the service. After she placed them around her house there was a Peace Lilly left over, and she gave to me.
Back then, I was teaching full time. I had two sons in college and two sons in high school. I was involved in a number of clubs and committees and struggled to keep up a tiny speck of writing. Plants and gardening were far from my horizon. I had no idea what a Peace Lilly even was, let alone where I was supposed to put it in my home. But it was in memory of my father - so welcome to the family.
My GOOD friend Sherrie shook her head and told me that was the last plant I wanted. She said I needed to swap it out for something else because it was going to be nothing but a pain. My track record with plants was not a good one at the time. I was seldom home and when I was it was to scrape out the basic necessities of the daily grind. As far as I was concerned a plant was a plant.
Little did I know that Sherrie's words would ring so true.
There is something about hosting a plant in your home that is in memory of a person. It tugs at the heart when the leaves droop. A smile crosses your face when a bloom pops out. But with this type of plant, the Peace Lily offers no peace just as Sherrie had warned. Too much light it droops; not enough it droops. Too much water it droops. Not enough water it droops. And when it is occasionally happy it grows and needs a bigger pot.
After a couple of years, I gave up the fight and chunked the plant only to have a friend at work show up one day with another tiny Peace Lily for my office. I called up Sherrie and laughed with her over the irony of my new office aggravation. The plant was moved around until I found one spot in the far corner on the microwave where it seemed happy. At the end of that school year I happily gifted it to the nearest teacher.
Years passed and my dear friend Sherrie lost her battle with cancer. We had enjoyed decades of friendship, sharing books, drinks, walks, children and grandchildren. We had shared hundreds of hours in laughter and some quiet moments in tears. It had been a friendship filled with blessings. After her service her husband called me up to tell me he had a plant held back for me to have in her memory.
Pulling up to her home that now seemed a bit smaller, he proudly pointed to a beautiful dark green Peace Lily and the irony was not lost in the moment. She was still laughing with me from heaven in typical Sherrie style.
Epilogue:
Going on three years now my tumultuous relationship with the unpeaceful finicky plant is going strong. She is on her third pot and takes up the corner of my dining room. She is just to the right of the window, wanting only angled light. She likes water that has been used to boil eggs or potatoes along with water steeped in coffee grounds. I stay out of her way and she stays out of mine. Beautiful white blooms pop out occasionally giving me a wink from heaven.
Yes, Sherrie, as always you got the last laugh.
