Posted 8-7-19
My mom has a green thumb. Some would say that I should change the tense of the previous sentence since she is currently in the final stages of Alzheimer’s, but I don’t need that kind of negativity in the ole digital cornbread blog. The information is still “in there”, she just cannot access it right now until a cure is found to unlock it… and restore her brain mass. Stinkin’ disease! 🙁
Take 2… Mom has a green thumb. She succeeds at nearly every plant thing she tries. Growing up in Wormyville, we always had pretty trees, ornamental grasses of all types in the yard, occasionally a small- to medium-sized garden, and houseplants aplenty. And, somehow, they all lived, even through vacations and abuse from us Applegate kids. Maybe mom learned to keep plants alive living on the farm growing up? Maybe she learned to have a green thumb working a couple summers at a greenhouse? Maybe she just had to to make it through the lean years of 3 hungry kids in the 1970’s? Who knows??? But she truly has a green thumb, something I aspire to have, but do not.
Here is a Mom versus Mark green thumb comparison:
Mom Mark
- Mom made the flowers for our wedding. They were artificial, but she knew what they should look like
- Mom kept plants alive in our house growing up despite me and my brother playing savage games with army men using them (and our fireplace facade) as props.
- Mom kept the hedges alive despite my propensity to run and dive through them as I got off the school bus. I found it fun to steamroll directly through the ones centered in front of the house. Yet they lived.
- Mark has no living indoor plants as of today
- I killed a tree in my yard that was 40 foot tall by not figuring out that the lateral lines were poisoning it. It made it through the Cold War, but it couldn’t survive me.
- My stepbrother and I tip-toed around and gradually poisoned one my dad’s prized rhubarb by sprinkling a little gas at its roots daily for a couple weeks. This was skilled, but not in a green thumb way. I was a mean kid.
- I grew a garden that was 18’x24′ one year, then allowed it to grow so well that I had okra the size of bananas and cucumbers the size of small farm animals. (Note: growing to this size makes all fruits and vegetables taste terrible. Go figure?!?!)
I suppose mom’s patience had been stretched and strengthened soooooo much from my and my sibling’s childhoods that it helped make mom what she is with plants. Hey, I suppose I DID become a green thumb, vicariously and after the fact, through mom. 🙂
Update: Mom was much better yesterday after getting the bathroom thing worked through. That issue can mess up so many aspects of life for a patient with dementia. I look forward to catching her tonight. Maybe I will bring her a plant?
Note: Both my dad and my step-dad are also great with plants. I am afraid this skill has just passed my by, so I will have to cling to the vicarious thing…
#EndALZ