I have a miniature African Violet that sits on the window ledge over my
kitchen sink. This little violet has been with me for many years now.
I purchased it at the Boise Co-Op. It has witnessed many things in
my life, the death of my father following his long battle with
Alzheimers. The big decision to move away from the home we loved
for many years and up root our lives from Idaho to Texas. The
sale of our business. A business that the two of us created from
scratch. Packing up two households and moving to Texas with my
Mom. And finally her death last year.
When I first bought this violet, it was tiny but full of blooms.
It was so precious and at first I really nurtured it. Then after some
months had passed my schedule and my life became chaotic with
the responsibilities of work and aging parents. I began neglecting
this dear little plant and it began to wither. At first it stopped
blooming and then the leaves started to shrivel. The plant was
sad and dying and it was my own fault. I gave it a little water
and then went out and bought another miniature violet that was
hardy and vibrant and full of blooms as this one had once been.
When we moved down to Texas, I put all of our house plants
in the back of our truck because of course they were not going
into the dark moving van. They made it through the three day
trip down here just fine because I was careful to make sure all
the plants were hydrated each evening.
I gave both the little violets a new home on my kitchen
windowsill. I knew they would be happy there because that
window has a northern exposure and although they would
receive lots of light, they would never suffer through the direct
rays of the strong Texas sun. Both prospered. Both bloomed.
But one day I noticed that this particular little violet was not
doing very well. It was overburdened by heavy leaves so I
gave it a trim. Still the violet was not happy and was listing
to one side and it's blooms were shriveling and falling off.
I realized that once again, this little plant needed some special
attention, so I trimmed up the bottom leaves and repotted it to
give the plant a better footing. Just this morning I noticed
new little leaves growing at the top.
This violet is a metaphor of my life. It's been a rocky road.
Parts of me have shriveled and died from upheaval and
neglect. I don't think that all hope is lost, but it's time for
me to cut away the burdens of heavy heartache, straighten
my spine and grow in a new direction.
I am starting over ~ yet again.
Big Texas Hugs,
Susan and Bentley