I'm waiting out three loads of laundry, tonight...
...and wandering a bit, mentally.
    Some months ago MCF's father died. I'm closely involved with her family, was with him, and walked shoulder to shoulder with her through the survivors' business of death.
    She is one of those people who could probably entice a silk plant to grow (whereas I have always had a black thumb, am famous for it) so she tends to gift people with lovingly chosen plants when she wants to celebrate her gratitude toward someone. At her father's funeral party (he had wanted a party, so that's what we did) she presented me with a flowering plant of some sort, the color of the flowers chosen specifically for me.
    I was incredibly touched, especially since she knows my history with plants, as I killed one she gave me a little over a year ago. She assured me though, that this one was "easy" and that I wouldn't be able to kill it. I laughed nervously and told her I hoped not.
    I have three methods for killing plants. The first is neglect; the second is solicitousness, including consulting books and articles about how to keep the things alive; the third is talking it to death. Since I intended to pay attention to this one (and made good on my intention) I assumed that I'd do this plant in through extreme attention. Here we are, 6 months later, the plant and me, both alive and thriving. It hasn't flowered again as she assured me it would but it is green and healthy and both my mother and I marvel at it daily. Until a few days ago I have assumed that I either got lucky with this one; it is, indeed, indestructible so is probably a silk plant; or that MCF's father is keeping an eye on it from Providence.
    Two days ago I did something I do incessantly which is probably one of the reasons aspens quake: I was seduced by a curious piece of greenery from a shrub of some kind in one of my mother's bouquets and decided to try to root it. This particular way of proving my black thumb is one of my more frequent follies. I can't bring myself to buy a plant in order to kill it but, I guess, I've always figured if something is already on its way out "it can't hurt" if I inadvertently help it along. Nothing, I repeat, nothing has ever rooted for me. My mother even sympathized with the cutting and suggested that I leave it in the bouquet and let it "die a natural death, that would be kinder."
    Although I wasn't expecting much I sought counsel from MCS who also has a miraculously green thumb. Frankly, even with meticulously noted advice, I expected that within a week I'd be throwing away a sodden, moldy, lifeless (except for parasites) cutting.
    Yesterday, 24 hours after having placed the cutting in a vinegar carafe in the kitchen window in the path of the morning sun, I thought I noticed a tiny white hair emerging from one of the nubs on the stem. I peered into the carafe through a magnifying glass to see if I was right. I couldn't believe this plant would root for me (pun not intended but appropriate) so chalked the neophyte root up to my imagination.
    This afternoon while filling the dishwasher I glanced at the plant. The imaginary root isn't imaginary! I dashed to the nearest nursery, bought some liquid plant food and painstakingly dripped miniscule amounts of Miracle Gro from a turkey pin into the water.
    Later this evening, while spraying down soaked bedsheets, I couldn't help musing about this amazing development: That I seem to be able, now, to nurture plants. I can't escape the idea that this development is somehow related to some fairly recent changes in the way I am taking care of my mother. Since about the time that MCF's father died I have been, literally, willing energy and vitality into my mother. Although I didn't begin this enterprise consciously I have an internal 'memory' of making a subterranean choice to do this because nothing else seemed to be working. Until The Cleansing previous to the colonoscopy I wasn't sure my will was working and, even after the remarkable effects of The Cleansing, which continue, I couldn't imagine that my will had anything to do with her revitalization.
    I'm beginning to wonder, though, if I've been granted a new gift or have discovered a latent one. I look at that two day old root and I can't help but see my mother today insisting on pushing the grocery cart through all the aisles in Costco even though we only needed a few bulk items; hunting down the sample kiosks and the first flushes of Costco's Christmas goods; chatting with Reuben, an 82 year old sample kiosk attendant, whom she'd called by name when she thanked him for a sample, thus initiating an animated conversation about their military experiences in WWII and how these lead not only to their eventual careers, but to their marriages; standing at the checkout busily pushing our items toward the cashier so the patrons behind us could load their purchases. All of these occurrences were as unexpected as a bush cutting rooting under my care in 48 hours time.
    I am contemplating my hands, tonight, both my outer and inner hands, and wondering if some powerful new way of transferring, or, perhaps, stirring, life enhancing energy is coming into its own within me. I can't even say "I hope so." These developments appear to be so strangely and startlingly obvious that hope seems beside the point.
    Over and over, now, tonight (and, I suspect, for some time to come) I've been internally, wordlessly chanting an acknowledgment that can only be lingualized thus: "Please, use me, take my energy and excite yours with it..."
    "And, the best part is," something I'm just discovering: The more energy flows out of me, the better I feel.
    I believe Greening by Gail has begun and apparently plants are going to be only the most obvious of the beneficiaries. I could not have asked for, or imagined, a better, more unexpected gift.

    thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou
- posted by gail rae @ 01:56   email...this post