Raising a Plant: Finding peace in letting my son grow up

When my mom gave it to me, I'm sure she had no idea the metaphor that this plant would become. I know I didn't. In a small, yellow, plastic pot and with only a handful of bright green leaves, it was a housewarming present celebrating my move into my very first apartment. 

It was January 1999. Kaleb was about 3 1/2 months old. I was 21. I had been a student at the University of Southwestern Louisiana (USL) but sat out that fall 1998 semester to give birth in September. I had always lived in the dorms, but since that was no longer an option, I applied and was approved for an on-campus apartment for families. Mom had offered to keep Kaleb with her in Pineville (an hour and a half from my school in Lafayette), but there was no way I was leaving my baby. He was my baby; I was his mother...wherever I go, he goes. In different ways over the course of my pregnancy and the previous 3 months, we both had to come to accept the fact that this tiny baby boy had been given to ME. I was chosen to be his mother, no one else. My mother and I both had our anxieties and insecurities about this. As my own loving mother, she offered me all kinds of help. As a stubborn daughter trying to become a loving mother myself, I sometimes refused. We both took it one step at a time, praying with all of our beings that God would take care of all of the many unknowns that lie ahead.

With a backpack on my shoulder, Kaleb on my hip, and a truck of hand-me-down furniture in tow, Kaleb and I moved to our own little apartment. The fact that the bed I had was the twin bed I had slept in my entire life since childhood perfectly illustrated my abrupt but incomplete transition into adulthood.

If I remember correctly, the plant was not only a housewarming present, but it was also meant to be Kaleb's. I don't know why she gave an infant a plant, knowing full well I would have to take care of it, but because it was Kaleb's I felt more obligated to keep it alive. Keeping a plant alive was probably just as frightening as being entrusted to keeping a baby alive since the only experience I had had with a plant was an ivy that I'd had for about a year that flourished...then died suddenly. And that was more experience than I'd ever had with a baby. God help us all.

Somehow (surely by the grace of God), I have managed to keep both Kaleb and the plant alive for over 18 years. As I was pruning the plant today and wrapping its tangle of branches around a small trellis, I thought of how much that plant has been through and somehow stayed alive and that it was a testament not only to my care, but also to the plant's own resilience. And I realized that plant is just like Kaleb.

Being a mother is the most difficult job I will ever have. There is no real guidebook. Every kid is different. The rules are constantly changing. What they need/want is constantly changing. How much I'm supposed to do for them is constantly changing. As much as I want to control their environment, there are things that will happen to them that I cannot control. All I can do is help them the best I can and trust that it's enough. While tending to a plant isn't nearly as stressful, it's similar in the fact that I can only do so much and I have to leave the rest to the plant (and God).

Over the past 18 years, this plant has moved with us...from Pineville to Lafayette to Baton Rouge to the duplex in Pineville to the house I owned in Pineville to the apartment in Orlando to the rental house in Orlando to the house we now own in Orlando. It has survived kittens playing in its long vines. It has survived being knocked out of its pot by both Aria and Zain. I usually don't remember to water it until I see it drooping heavily. But there have been times where it has looked near dead and I've added fertilizer. There were a couple time that it was infested with tiny bugs and I had to figure out why and how to get rid of them. There were the times I realized it had outgrown the pot it was in...mostly because I saw that it was no longer growing. There were times that began to take root on the wall and in the carpet and had to be pulled up. It periodically has yellow or brown leaves that need to be pulled off. And last year I cut many long vines and put them in vases around the house so they may continue to grow even if they have become to long and tangly for the plant in the pot. And today I added a trellis to help keep the long vines out of harm's way and allow the plant to grow in a better direction than all over the floor.

This was during our time in Baton Rouge (Jan 2001- Jul 2002) when I was finishing up my MSW at LSU. This plant (and Kaleb) saw visits from many friends and family, including Aunt Annette at Christmas, and Megan (with Caden) and Andy.

We lived in the duplex in Pineville from Summer 2002 - Winter 2004. These were some of the most fun years, when we lived near many friends, we did regular karaoke, Kaleb learned to ride a bike and lost his first tooth. This is where we were living when Katie, our first cat, showed up at our door. 

In all of the plant's experiences, never did it die. Sometimes it looked like it might. Sometimes I felt bad for neglecting it. But with just simple acts of pruning, watering, nourishing, and placing it in the sunlight, the plant has continued to not only live, but flourish. There are times where I see Kaleb wilted, with brown leaves, or taking up root in unhealthy places, but I must not lose heart. For he, too, has everything he needs to be able to flourish. A rough spell does not mean all is lost, and I don't have to have all the answers. He was entrusted to ME to be his mother; and what I lack, God has made up for and will continue to do so.

Matthew 6:24-34
25 “For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? 27 And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life? 28 And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, 29 yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith! 31 Do not worry then, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear for clothing?’ 32 For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. 34 “So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.