My green children

Life in a bottle:

These two bottles contain trimmings from two of my daughter's birth plants.  I know this sounds strange, but one is from when Savannah was born.  We got it when we lived in our apartment in Bloomingdale, a suburb just outside of Chicago.  The other is from a plant left on our apartment doorstep in Albuquerque.  A neighbor left it without a note, when I was in the PICU with Sage when she was just a week old.  

I have become attached to these and others that I call the kid's "birth plants."  To me, they're priceless.  I was heartbroken to hear that Sam's giant plant, which I had to leave when I moved here, was gone.  I had grown that from a little planter I received from my biological father when Sam was born.  He never sent flowers, said they didn't last long and instead sent potted arrangements containing "baby sprouts."  I loved them and grew many of them into large, beautiful "adults."

My little Sam felt bad that I was saddened about the loss of his plant, so when we were at Home Depot this summer, him and I picked out a new one. It's not the same, but it still makes me smile and think if him when I look at it everyday.

Savannah and I also planted this summer. I guess she's inherited the urge to nurture and grow beauty as well.    I laughed as she planned our poses for a picture she wanted of us together gardening, soil, gloves and all.  

It's funny, I didn't realize until now how my father set a precident with me and my green children.  I have told my husband countless times that I prefer plants to cut flowers.  I guess over the years, I have seen too much beauty die or get tossed onto the trash.  To me, each plant has instead become a symbol of helping something flourish and grow.