Death of A Plant

Who here as bought a plant? An indoor one that doesn’t need much maintenance? Or maybe one that needs constant attention? Maybe one that bares fruit? Who has grown one from seed? Who here bought a plant and was actually serious about growing it? Someone who continued to water it, care for it and make sure it survived the first week then the next.. Then the next… Then you would know how it feels to see your plant die.

Seeing a little bit of green push out from loamy soil is enough to make someone squeal with excitement. The soil you dug out from your backyard or the bag of soil you chose carefully from the shop to make sure it’s seed friendly. The same soil you sprinkled a couple days ago with small strawberry seeds. The same pot you chose to suit the way your little seedlings would grow. The exact place you had planned out to make sure your plant had just enough shade and sunlight as well as to keep it away from the bloody cats who rake at any soil they see to take a dump in. The time of when to water your plant. All of the information you took hours researching for on google and pinterest to make sure you know what you’re doing. All of that giving you the satisfaction you were hoping for when you first planted the seeds. That is the excitement. The same excitement you get when you bring some plants from a far away place and see them grow to the point where you need knew pots because you never thought it’d grow in such drastic conditions.

Seeing that you are capable of looking after something and seeing it grows gives a feeling like no other. It’s the same feeling you get when you call out for your new puppy and it comes running to you excitedly. The same feeling when your souffle rises and doesn’t sink in the middle. The same feeling you get when your child says mummy or daddy. Pure happiness. Bliss. You treat the plant as if it was your own child. You nurture it. Protect it from any pests. You make it a habit. A responsibility. A part of your life.

Plants aren’t like pets or children because you can’t take the around everywhere you go. You can’t look after them from an hour away. You can’t look after them while you’re at university or in a different country. That’s why you entrust someone to look after them for you. Someone close to you that you can count on. You tell them what to do. You tell them every exact detail. You leave everything to them.

Coming home just to see your plant dead rips open your heart. And no, I’m not overacting. Seeing a plant shriveled up or even drowned in a pot of water makes you want to kick someone in the shins. All that effort and time gone down the drain. All ruined because someone was too lazy to water them so they thought it was okay to drown them to make up for lost time. It’s hard to brush it off. It makes you feel like you’re not worthy of planting anything else because it’s going to die anyway. It doesn’t make you want to say meh, I can’t plant another one anyway. It makes you cry and angry that someone is illiterate and just as ignorant of caring for plants. They don’t understand plants like you do. They don’t understand the pain.

If only plants could be given CPR, I would be living in a jungle.