Missing Love
How a houseplant taught me what was missing in my life

“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.” — Laurell K Hamilton
A few years ago, I recall tears streaming down my face as I painstakingly trimmed the dying leaves from my ailing houseplant. Both of us were in bad shape, pale versions of our former selves.
Perhaps it was this bond forged in the depth of despair that enabled me to perceive my frondy friend’s sigh of relief as the dead weight came off one leaf at a time, culminating in an untidy pile at my feet.
“What am I missing?” I desperately wanted to know as I watched my houseplant begin to thrive once again.
Upon relating this to my friend Josie, her response came as a revelation to me:
“Love,” she said.
“Like your houseplant, you were missing love in your life.”
Thank you, Lucy Dan






