It was early June and the school year was drawing to a close. I decided to accompany my 6th grader on her walk to school again. As much as I tried to keep the spirits up at home, it was just three weeks since both in-laws succumbed to Covid, and the mood at home was hopelessly gloomy. These walks to school with my youngest best friend were a big part of what kept me sane in those days. Sometimes we talked endlessly- about friends, school, good, bad, life. Some other times, we just quietly walked, as we did that morning. Just as we got on to the narrow metal bridge, a few yards from the middle school, we both heard a clunk. The sound was very distinct, metal on metal. My hands instinctively reached for my earrings. Sure enough, one was missing. We looked for it on the bridge for a few minutes to no avail. Soon, the middle schooler left, so she does not get a tardy, but dejected because those earrings were her x-mas present for me from two years ago. She did not know then how crestfallen I was too with that loss. I spent nearly an hour after she left, looking for that lost earring, even going under the bridge and rummaging in the dirt, in the hope that the earring fell through the gaps- no luck. I put the lone earring away in a drawer upon reaching home and avoided thinking about it again.
A few weeks later, as I was doing the dishes, I noticed that the bonsai tree that my husband got me for that same Christmas two years ago was losing leaves in a hurry. I probably did not water it for several days. I read the care instructions on the plant - and it did say that it was typical for it to shed during fall, although that did not happen the prior two years. By September, it became totally bald, dry and lifeless. I left it on the kitchen window sill, as if I deserved to suffer by seeing every night, what I did to the poor tree.
Guilt stricken from the bonsai fatality, I brought all my potted plants indoors as the weather cooled down. Lemon, Jasmine, Mango, Curry leaf, Holy Basil (Tulasi)- all debuted at my backyard this summer. Some of them storebought, some given by friends with green thumbs, now resided in my house. I was religiously following watering instructions for them, chose well lit locations, ensured that the temperature never dipped low enough to distress the plants. For a while, the plants did not seem to mind the maneuver- jasmine and lemon bloomed. Mango and curry leaf plants sprouted new leaves. Tulasi added inches to several stems. I was finally getting over my plant killer's guilt, until the November nights came along.
Mango plant was the first to depart. The new leaves dried out. The two established leaves fell. It went from life to lifeless in a matter of ten days. My PTSD from the prior losses kicked in. I frantically searched up on the internet for salvaging the remaining plants. Ordered fertilizer pods for lemon tree, but that appeared to be too little too late. By the time the fertilizer made it in, the plant had shed 75% of its blooms and leaves. Ones that remained on the plant were rapidly turning brown. Curry leaf began shedding too. Jasmine started wilting. Tulasi started browning. On a whim, I got grow lights for the plants and set them on a 12hr timer. Watered them a few times a week with a spray mist. However, I started working in the living room and generally avoided seeing the life from the plants slowly slipping away. It was as if I maxed out on grief for the year and could not handle any further losses of any kind, living or shining.
December was upon us and we made last minute plans to go on a cruise for holidays. A week long voyage to Cabo, Ensenada, and back, plus a couple of days in bay area with friends- we were gone for almost ten days! While on the ship, like a wuss, I decided to never keep any plant that could die around the house, ever again, much like the moratorium I set on future pets, after I killed our betta fish, Maxine, back in 2014. As much as they brought me joy when they lived, the devastation from their loss had been unbearable. The cruise trip gave me a much needed pause and reset. Listening to the waves every night, looking into the 360 degrees of darkness, was therapeutic, and, waking up to our bright and shiny star brought back some rays of optimism that had abandoned me, several months ago.
It appeared that my optimism wasn't unfounded, after all! I was greeted upon our return by new life in my abandoned room of plants- curry leaf's new sprouts, lemon's baby blooms, and Jasmine's new leaves. Such was the high from those new green beginnings that I did not flinch at the discovery of our broken water heater right on New Year's Day- I happily challenged myself to a cold shower, and even took the opportunity to help my kids experience the stove-top water boiling for baths, like we did back home! I overcame the self-coined taboo of doing only the 'good' things on the first day of the year, and split a gallon of milk (to make Ras Malai the next day). It is as if those new leaves gave me a new lease on my positivity and optimism. When the mind's at peace, so's all else! Remember my 'lost' earring under that bridge? Even that's at peace, having miraculously found its mate in an adjoining drawer, just in time to lounge on my earlobes and ring in the new year together! Maybe the Bonsai will spring back to life too, who knows?! It would absolutely make my day if it did. If not, well, that's OK too!
No comments:
Post a Comment