Just a Plant

The weekend after Luke’s funeral, I got a call from his Mom asking me if I wanted a peace lily from the service. I of course jumped at the opportunity, and in my car to go pick it up. I honestly felt honored she chose me to give something to and at the time I wanted anything that had anything to do with Luke. So, for the last two and a half years I have been housing a fairly massive peace lily that hasn’t ever really brought me peace. The plant didn’t remind me of Luke’s life, this plant reminded me of Luke’s death.

So, this plant has been in my spare bedroom (where I never am) for the past two years. I go in from time to time to see that it is lifeless, I give it water, and then boom it’s back, bigger than before. My spare bedroom hasn’t resembled a spare bedroom since I moved in May of 2015. It’s been my Christmas wrapping room, a play room, a storage space and the peace lily just resided among other things in this space, regardless of the room’s use.

I’m excited to report I’m buying a new bed (yay). Now that I have an “extra” bed, I want to make my spare bedroom look like a spare bedroom. Groundbreaking, I know. So, Saturday morning I woke up on a mission to switch around beds, rearrange, reorganize and be done by noon. I didn’t even make coffee before I was doing chores and “getting it done”.  Yes, I’m a bit OCD. Yes, I moved the bed by myself. Yes, I know I’m stubborn and impatient, maybe a little crazy.

Before I could move my “old” bed out of my room and into the spare, I had to make space in the spare room, and that meant finding a new home for my peace lily. I realized this massive plant would create some troubles for me once I moved the bed in, so I took it out and told myself I’d place it last. I pretty much cleared out my spare bedroom and moved one bed out of my room and into the spare. I put fresh sheets on, I was SO excited and next came the fun part, right? Knickknacks, night stand/lamp placement, this plant? What was initially a lot of happiness and excitement for me became anxiety and irritably. I probably moved this plant 75 times. Each time I moved the plant I would shift the bed, a little to the right, a little to the left. This nightstand, no, maybe I could use this as a nightstand and put the lily on it? I tried everything to make space for this lily in my spare bedroom but it wasn’t happening. The plant was just too big for the space now that the space is set up to be functional.

Okay, so I took the lily for a walk, a walk all throughout my house. I tried to place the lily in my room, in the living room, anywhere and everywhere, and it just wasn’t working. The leaves would always touch the walls or they wouldn’t get enough sun, it was too big and took over where it shouldn’t, and after an hour of messing with this plant I was in tears. Was I crying over a plant? Ish. Yes and no. So, what did I do? I called my mom. My mom, by the way, has an amazing green thumb. I knew the answer to the question before I asked it. “Can we split the peace lily?” Of course we can! I know that, I know my mom knew I knew that so why was I calling to ask a question I already knew the answer to?

Here’s the thing I’m not “supposed to say”, I didn’t want to keep the plant. Again, this peace lily has never brought me peace. It is the plant of death in my eyes, I don’t think of Luke’s life when I look at my lily, I think of his passing. I’ve always known this but because it was tied to Luke and it was a gift from Luke’s Mom, I held onto it. I had a space where I could hide it but still have it. I lost my hiding place for the lily, in turn, I lost my hiding place for my feelings towards the lily.

I wanted to get rid of the lily but the idea made me sob. I told my Mom I didn’t think I wanted to keep it, but I kept going back to splitting it and making it smaller. I knew, deep down, what I wanted…but I didn’t feel like I could or should. After dancing around all of my options with this plant for a good fifteen minutes I finally said it, “I feel like there’s nothing left”. The second I said it I just sobbed. My mom reminded me what this plant represented, and for me, it was nothing positive. My mom reminded me that there would always be something left, that getting rid of a plant wouldn’t erase Luke. All things I knew but needed to hear.

So, I did it. I acknowledged what this plant was doing to me and I got rid of it. While this was incredibly painful, I sobbed like a toddler, I know I made the right decision for me. Luke’s Mom wouldn’t care a thing in the world about what I did with that plant. Luke’s mom wants me to have peace, not a peace lily. So, here I am, down one peace lily, but left with spare room. I need room, not A room but room, room to grow. Here’s to growing!

As always, peace by piece. – Steph

P.S. Today I took a walk and filled my hands with flowers that made me feel happy. We deserve to be happy, even though we’re allowed to be sad. (Hugs)


2 thoughts on “Just a Plant

  1. Beautiful reflections. Yes, even those little things can take on so much power. Cleaning out all the static of those “little things” can create a lot more room to breathe!

    Liked by 1 person

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