Plant Life

I know I would be a terrible pet-owner, or parent, given that I can't even keep a succulent alive.

Granted, I bought the plant from Ikea so its future has always been doomed. However, I didn't expect a succulent living in a pot the size of a coffee cup would require that much care. In fact, it seemed the more I neglected the plant, the more it seemed to thrive. Sure, living in my bathroom couldn't have been all that pleasant, but the plant seemed to enjoy a severe lack of sunshine and water. It even grew off-shoots and seemed to double in size. It never complained, it seemed quite happy living there so I continued to neglect it out of love.

But gradually, all the leaves fell off and the stem turned brown and the succulent began to look more like a stick in a pot than an actual succulent. It wasn't until later that I realised the poor thing was suffering from chemical poisening. The amount of hairspray, deoderant, perfume, toilet spray and cleaning agents being emitted into the air of that 3x3 metre space would be enough to kill a small human, let alone a succulent.

I quickly pulled it from the bathroom like a concerned parent yanks their child out of a dangerous daycare centre and began the delicate process of reviving it - a little water, a little sunshine and a new residency out on the coffee table where the risk of chemical contact wasn't quite so high. But despite my careful tendering, the succulent continued to look desperately sick. Some might say, dead even.

I felt terrible. My obsession for personal hygiene and perfect hair had killed my succulent. And to think, I had actually thought it enjoyed the neglect and toxic envioronment I had subjected it to. I had been selfish. I had taken it for granted and my guilt over my sudden concern for its welfare only made me feel worse. I didn't deserve my succulent.

But it seems, either succulents are harder to kill than you think or my particular succulent believed I deserved a second chance. From the tip of the brown stem, a frail green leaf timidly sprouted, followed by a bigger, bolder leaf which grew out from the base. The stem even began to turn greener in the presence of its new leafy friends. It didn't look as full and healthy as when I first bought it, but it was alive and I was relieved.

Sure, I had screwed up before and I hadn't realised until it seemed too late. It wasn't until the thought of losing my succulent that I realised how much I still wanted it in my life, how much I still had to offer it and the fact that I genuinely wanted to care for it. It's a sign of character to give something a second chance and it was nice to think if anything, my succulent still believed in me.