How to Stay Sane While Dating: VI

I grew up in a house with plants. Not a jungle of plants, rather a scattering of plants. Babi had the jungle (which Zeidy tolerated, barely). 

I should note that I have murdered many plants in my time. During my teenage years I would water out of boredom, and drenching basil three times a day is really not a good idea. 

Then my dentist gave me a pothos, which are pretty much unkillable. It sits on my office desk, devoid of natural light; it hasn't stopped growing and remains a bright, vibrant green. As it thrived, I regained my confidence and began to buy plants again. 

Han, as it turned out, is a big pothos fan. His parents' house is smothered with them. It's awesome. 

So you can understand why I burst out laughing when I saw "Letter of Recommendation: Pothos" when we were dating. Jazmine Hughes fell for plants following a breakup. 

Every Tuesday morning, I fill up an old wine bottle with water and make the rounds, finding that my pothos have always survived. A pothos gives the gift of forgiveness: It grows so quickly that it seems almost regenerative. If you damage one vine, there’s another one already sprouting up — another chance to get it right.

During Ma's illness, I bought plants obsessively, plastering them not only over her hospital room, but around the house as well. There is something uplifting and soothing to the soul to be constantly greeted by flora. It's life—a lower form of life, but life. And where there's life, there's hope.