Stream of consciousness writing from me. No prompt. Just me:
My mother kept a plant in a pot called a Chenille plant. I always loved it. It was at the lake then at her house where she moved in with her husband. When I moved into this house she gave me the plant along with a native geranium in the pots they stayed in for probably 30 years unless she had put them in larger pots along the way.
Mrs. Chenille froze one winter probably 10 years ago. I tried to bring her back but she didn’t make it. I dumped the remains on the side of the deck and tossed the molded pot it came in. I loved that plant. It had these long soft fluffy red puffs on them. They were like a fluffy cat’s tail, but red. I haven’t thought about that plant in forever.
Yesterday I was walking out to see the hawk and I saw Mrs. Chenille’s little red fluff growing in the side of our yard, far away from where it had originally died 10 years prior. Just one little red puff growing there. I couldn’t believe it. TEN YEARS! How long had that seed waited for the right conditions to grow. What were those conditions? Rain? Sun? Why now? Why Did Mrs. Chenille come back now? HOW did she come back now.
Last night I could not sleep. I thought about how planting a seed can take years to grow. I thought about applying that seed and that flower to our thoughts and our words and how one little seed or thought of kindness could take 10 years to take root. How the ripple affect of love can appear years from when we plant them. One nice comment can save a life a week later or years later. I still think of a boy that cradled my head in his lap 25 years ago some nights and it gives me hope.
So I lay in bed, lie in bed, I don’t know the correct grammar for that these days but anyway I was in my bed thinking all of these lovely thoughts at 3 am. I would get up and ask my husband to buy a new pot and potting soil and put Mrs. Chenille back on the deck. Dig her up and give her a healthy new spot to grow. I could look at her and think about how she persevered and how my mother’s love may still be there and finally grew 10 years later from a plant that sat on a deck on a lake originally that had caused so much pain. I thought of Mrs. Chenille as hope.
I woke up this morning and wanted to go dig up Mrs. Chenille and throw her in the ditch.
I wanted to go out and stomp her out with my shoe. Fuck perseverance. I’m so sick of perseverance and trying and hoping.
I went out and felt the softness of Mrs. Chenille. Why hurt her when she had done nothing wrong but bloom! So I decided to not stomp on her or dig her up and put her on my deck in a pretty pot. I decided to leave her right where she decided would work for her.
Mrs. Chenille, on her own, grew in the sandy soil, on the side of the yard, right next to where I walk to the car every single day. She didn’t need a pretty pot or perfect soil. She just needed to be left be so that she could grow on her own terms in her own way in her own time under her own perfect conditions. I looked her up online and she is supposed to have PERFECT conditions to grow. She doesn’t have them. She’s just out in the sand doing her own thing.
The lesson in Mrs. Chenille is this : sometimes you just have to let things be! I will walk by Mrs. Chenille every day and acknowledge her beauty and leave her to do as she pleases, where she chose to flourish, in her own way.