Plantless

In envisioning the many variables of my move, I always knew that someday I'd be forced to give up all my plants.   I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm no hoarder or anything, but I do have more than a few lovely, and not so lovely variations of them.  I guess amongst my obsessive planning of our ultimate departure, I never truly realized how something so small could affect me.  But as I posted a 'free potted plants' ad on Craigslist on Sunday, reality suddenly seemed to feel a bit colder.  Most of them had been with me for the past eight years and on some level I guess I cared about them; most for the life they had breathed into our place, and others merely because they had been given to me by my mother.  But as the woman came to take them one by one until they were just a memory,  my heart suddenly sank as a small sadness began to wash over me.  And I have to admit that I am almost embarrassed that I was actually sad over a bunch of small time vegetation, but It's true, I was.  Right after the last plant had been taken away,  I immediately decided to call my mother to tell her how I was feeling.   She of course knew how to make things better, telling me that those plants were part of a chapter I was closing,  and that the minute I got back to her house, we would together start all new plants in her garden, so that I may take them to my new place in Boston.  It's funny how just a few beautiful words strung together can make all the difference.