16 July, 2026

A sad history of houseplants


There was a time when everyone filled their apartments with houseplants. For most of us, buying a new houseplant was a downward slide, showing us how little green our thumbs were. Some were better and managed to keep them alive. Claudia was one of those. 

Her apartment was a jungle of hanging pots with plants draped over them, vines crawling up and over bookshelves, and beasts of unruly rubber plants crowding the corners of her living room. Plants were her companions. They were not necessarily pretty or decorative, more a jumbled, overgrown mass of green.

Whereas, any plants I bought quickly went from store-bought lush to shrivelling victims of neglect in a very short breath of time. Their decline made me feel very inadequate. Those needing water thirsted. Those that didn't need watering drowned. Then there was always the one plant that grew and grew, with a twisting stem and a pathetic, small amount of leaves.

Claudia always bought me plants for my birthday. I could never figure out if she did this with a touch of wickedness, knowing my dread of plants, or if it was a case of hope springs eternal. She never gave up. Whenever I got a new plant, I'd throw away the most miserable one. And for some weeks, or months, the new plant would stand there boldly amongst the scruff.

Yet in the end, they all succumbed and ended up atop a compost heap.

Sometime after Claudia died, I got rid of all our houseplants. They were both victims and witnesses to my grief. I treasured the books she brought into my life, reading them with joyful sadness and feeling her loss, but I could not bear seeing one more plant die before my eyes. It took me seven years to buy a new houseplant.

I put it in the living room by itself and made a pact. I told myself that if I could keep it alive for one year, I'd find it some friends. Now, nearly two years down the line, four plants are residing in our living room, looking happy and healthy. 

I just might buy one more, as if it were a gift from Claudia, on my next birthday.

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