De-Mom-Strable Love

Love languages. There’s no shortage or lack of variety, for sure.

Then there’s the whole parental love, aka: unconditional love. And you all know my – strictly observational – take on parenting: the job you never take a day off from.

Well, MomDonna has low key nailed the convergence of the two.

Plants. Thats right…randomly occurring plant gifting.

It started out innocent enough.

Christmas cacti have been a thing in my family forever. Just sorta omnipresent. I grew them as a kid, while mom preferred violets. Grandma on mom’s side (Myrtle’s middle namesake) had an epic assortment that somehow seemed to always bloom out of season in her big windowed, cigarette smoke filled homes.

Then when I lived on Kerby, me neighbor’s partner passed himself away and I inherited a specimen that was probably two feet across and over 75 years old. Which turned out to be at least ten years older than he’d ever become. It was so old and big that it lived outside and was hearty enough to endure. When my job transferred me to Shittatle, my youngest brother took possession of it, along with the sweetest pooch ever.

A pretty sweet deal for him.

It made perfect sense that mom would gift me a lil cutting of her Christmas cactus when I moved back to town, plantless. Then Cornelius showed up at one of our lunch dates a year or two later.

A couple weeks back, I showed up at the parent’s place for a smoker-Q and saw an avocado bulb that mom had done the whole toothpick schtick with. It had grown about 8” and had a taproot so long that it coiled around the bottom of the glass it was suspended over.

Me, making grabby hands like a child: Oooh, I want it!

Mom, distracting me with a shiny object: I have some lemon basil you can take home and replant.

Me: <pouts>

After we ate, mom disappeared into the shed for a rather long time, mildly raising my brother’s and my curiosity. Eventually she emerged with the aforementioned basil.

Cute, right? It was looking a little wilty on her window sill, which was why she wanted to send it home with me, to see how well I did with it. Of course, she also admonished me to replant it, since the little decorative drawer she planted it in had no drainage. As you can see, I have yet to do as instructed, but it’s looking about the same…so I’d say I’m doing ok by it so far. Probably, if I replanted it I’d be doing even better. But I can’t decide what vessel I want it in…

Then, I have breakfast with mom & dad today and toward the end, she cryptically mentions that she has something in the car for me. Usually at this time of year, that means a haul from the garden. And I’m not opposed to popping cherry tomatoes while watching TV or roasting some zucchini spears and calling that dinner…paired with a nice wine, naturally.

But, no. Not today.

Mom: I’ve been calling her Ava, for avocado, but you can change it if you want.

I told mom that I’d been thinking about sacrificing an avocado just for its seed (I don’t care for avocados) after seeing hers. She volunteered that she was going to restart anew with one of the avocados currently back in their kitchen. So today my little plant family grew by one and I left lunch feeling immersed in motherly love. And, yes…I seatbelted Ava into my front passenger seat for the ride home.

De-Mom-Strable Love

3 thoughts on “De-Mom-Strable Love

  1. Avocados are a food group. And that cigarette filled house? My mom the chimney could grow anything. She walked past the garden and shit stood up tall and grew. My daughter the black thumb can kill cactus while her mother buys 50 cent castoffs from the garden center and soon has pots overflowing with leafy things. Me? I run the lawnmower, weedeater and lawn blowjobber and roll up the hoses…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s all about balance in your family! You’ve got mom and daughter, opposite ends of the thumb color spectrum and then there’s you to run support ops. You better than most must know that “talent” is not going to schlep its own equipment. 🥸🥸🥸

      Liked by 1 person

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