Summary

A plant enthusiast struggles to keep her peace lily and coffee plant alive, despite her nurturing instincts and the symbolic importance of the peace plant during troubled times.

Abstract

The author recounts her experience with indoor plant care, particularly focusing on the challenges of maintaining a peace lily and a coffee plant. Despite her dedication and the emotional significance of the plants, representing hope amidst global unrest, she faces the difficulty of balancing care with the risk of over-attentiveness. Her husband's skepticism and practicality contrast with her determination to keep the plants thriving, especially during an unexpected absence that nearly leads to the plants' demise. The narrative underscores the personal and symbolic value of the peace lily and the author's commitment to reviving it.

Opinions

The author has a strong preference for real plants over artificial ones, valuing their natural beauty and air-purifying qualities.
She believes in the cultural importance of having real flowers, as reflected in Romanian homes.
The author admits to being overly attentive to her orchid, which she believes led to its death, labeling herself a "helicopter plant mom."
She views the peace lily as a symbol of hope and resilience, especially in the context of global tensions.
The author's husband is pragmatic, suggesting fake plants as a low-maintenance alternative and expressing doubt about her ability to keep real plants alive.
Despite the challenges, the author remains optimistic and continues to care for her remaining plants, seeking a balance between neglect and over-attentiveness.

Now Is Not a Good Time To Kill A Peace Plant

My brown thumb strikes again

Hang in there little plant! Photo by Alex P.

My husband and I bought our first apartment last year and we were ready to decorate. We have some of the same ideas on design and some very different ideas.

Luckily, a small part of the Venn diagram of our tastes in home design overlaps. We bought furniture that was perfect for the living and kitchen and started looking at plants.

My husband kept pointing out fake plants that look real. They don’t need any maintenance and never die.

I am not and have never been a fan of plastic flowers. They never look quite real and the plastic gets dusty. Washing fake flowers is not something I want to add to housecleaning.

I told my husband I was going to fill our home with fresh flowers. They are natural air purifiers, besides, all the other Romanians have real flowers in their real windows. Homes, however small, generally have at least one orchid peeping out the window. If they could do this, so could I.

“But you kill flowers.” My husband realistically pointed out.

I frowned. No. This time it will be different.

My husband shrugged and left me to my dreams.

I got an orchid as a housewarming gift from my Romanian “mom.” It was beautiful and special with three stems curved into an arrangement.

Orchids are my favorite and I was in love.

I tended that plant like it was my baby. I hovered over it and watered it and whispered sweet nothings in its ear.

Every time it looked like it was fading, I begged it to live.

What do you want? More light? Less? Water? Coffee? I was ready to give it the moon from the sky.

Since it didn’t answer, I usually settled on giving it more water and closing the blinds to shield it from the direct sun coming through the window.

It just got browner and browner the more I tried to save it. In exasperation at all my hovering, it finally died.

I read later that Orchids are like cats. They don’t like too much attention and will die if you vex them. You have to show them a bit of indifference for them to thrive. Only water them once a week.

I’m a helicopter plant mom. I muttered.

I bought myself the last blighted coffee plant I found in the hardware store to replace my dead orchid and heal my wounded pride. And my husband gave me a peace plant in a mixed basket of live plants for mother’s day.

The other live plants died in the first couple of weeks. But the coffee plant seems hard to kill. The peace lily was also important to me. Not only was it my dad’s favorite plant, but in this troubled time, it just brings a spark of hope.

Now is not the time for a peace plant to die. It’s our last thread of hope in these troubled times.

Both of these last two remaining plants have had a few close calls. But, I’ve managed to bring them through with a little water and love. I’ve tried to be the best plant mom I can be.

I’ve tried to hover and tend just the right amount without suffocating them.

Everything was looking good, and then for five days, I had to leave town unexpectedly.

I came back to a clean and pristine house. My husband had even cleaned the windows and done all the laundry.

I also came back to two pretty dead-looking plants in the window, as well. They toughed out the sunniest days this year has seen so far on the windowsill.

NOT THE PEACE PLANT! I yelled internally while I lunged for the water.

It’s just bad luck for it to die with Russia one border away and everything going on in the world right now.

I watered both plants and the coffee plant wagged its tail, happy to see me after my 5 days' absence. It only took a half cup of water for it to perk back up. I pulled off a few more of its blighted leaves. It looks like it will pull through.

However, I am afraid the peace lily may have its days numbered. There are still a few spots at the base that look a bit green. It’s pretty sad-looking, overall.

I’m watching it and caring for it. But the jury is still out.

Please send good thoughts.

Now is not a good time for a peace lily to die.