We've had this house plant-I think it's a peace lily-for years now and I'm proud to say it is still alive. My brother and sister-in-law gave it to us as a gift years ago and I was terrified that I would kill it because, well, I tend to do that. I get busy (I mean lazy) and forget to water, I over water, I yell at the plant. Just kidding on that last one. But seriously, this plant must be the easiest plant to keep alive because it even droops to tell me when it needs water. Actually, it keeps the other plants alive as well (yes, we have a couple of other plants) because they also get watered when the peace lily droops.
When we first got the peace lily it had some beautiful, white flowers in bloom. I think it sporadically bloomed every once in awhile, but I haven't seen a flower on it for at least 2-3 years. I thought it was done. Kind of like when you get older and run out of good eggs (if you had good eggs to begin with)-I thought my peace lily hit menopause.
And then randomly on Christmas (or maybe it was Christmas Eve) I was sitting on the couch watching tv and happened to look at the plant. It had the beginnings of what I believe to be a new white flower. It wasn't open or anything, but it was definitely a start, a promise of a new bloom. For some reason, I was happy. I don't usually get happy about plants. Just not a plant person. But this one lone white flower that came out of nowhere against all odds to show up right as we were starting a new cycle...yeah, yeah, you get where I'm going with this. I saw it as a ray of hope. I don't know the history of the peace lily or why it carries its name, but maybe it's because it is supposed to give people peace. Not that having a screaming infant in the house would be peaceful, but it would bring peace to my heart and soul and get rid of the achy, emptiness that seems to reside where my heart used to be.
Worrying is a Good Thing
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