It’s most likely inevitable… Lily is dying.
She had lived so many years within Phil’s embrace that the
trauma of being ripped away had eroded her to the core. He was after all, her
savior. It was he who had hid her during the Feng-Shui occupation by covering
her with enormous petals and encouraging her not to bloom but to look small and
encased.
Lily came to the treatment center with others in a dish
garden. She was a gift to one of the doctors who had healed a German guest. The
florist who matched the combination of plants was inexperienced and had to rely
on aesthetics rather than compatibility to make the arrangement. It served its
initial purpose but within weeks a few of the occupants of the dish rebelled
and showed their contempt for being mashed together by dying off. The fresh
ribbons became stained by water and dirt and were also discarded leaving only a
sprig of a tall peace lily and a philodendron in a Vietnamese ceramic pot.
In contrast, the philodendron was bushy and wild. He grew in
every direction starting out with the morning sun and bending westward in the
late afternoons with the changing light. His body was twisted and bristled.
Like a man who would commandeer his troops, he towered over thin Lily and encircled
her.
Lily kept her identity by growing tall and straight. She
threw her arms open far over her head as in joyful exuberance knowing that she
was safe being surrounded by this masculine companion. He wove in and out of
her dark green body sometimes lifting her into the air and sometimes blanketing
her gently. Life was good.
This existence lasted for many years as patients came and
went and the clinic flourished. Eyes set upon Phil and Lily who had eventually
grown to heritage proportions and her solid darkness and his variegated streaks
were complimented. “Such a beautiful, unplanned pairing” said a woman noticing
the unique plant couple.
When the Asian came for a stay and opted to pay in the form
of Feng-Shui advice somehow, Lily was observed. She was deemed as a “wild”
plant that grew in opposition to a peaceful environment. She was labeled “disruptive”
to the healing process. It was decided that Lily had to leave the premise for
healing to continue.
Lily might have been ripped away right then and there but a
plant-lover heard of the dilemma and felt the icy pain of death to this plant
couple and saw the union as more than a simple cosmic failure. She stole the
pot and whisked it away to solve the problem. She brought the loving couple
home and despite hearing all the forewarned advice of the impending doom the
plant couple would place within the air surrounding their pot, she cared for
them. The air was not poisoned and the
plant couple lived for many more years, blooming gracefully and peacefully in
their Vietnamese pot.
Phil continued to grow wildly and embrace Lily as he always
had because it’s what he knew, and she loved being held even as he stole most
of her space because it’s what she did. Eventually, she had no more room to
give and her arms began to weaken. He embraced her fiercely hoping to revive her,
but she continued to spiral downhill and wilt.
The plant lover knew the plant-couple needed to change. She
changed the dirt and moved them into a larger dish. Then she gave them space
and quiet, and waited.
Phil continued to thrive, adjusting well but Lily was shocked.
She was experiencing too much new… too
much change… too quickly. The new-differentness
was crippling.
Did the plant-lover make an error?
It was finally decided, on the brink of death that Lily
would be taken from Phil and planted lovingly in a small pot with the hope of
starting over. She would be nourished and loved in front of a warm heater
during a joyous holiday season where she was never alone. The hope was that if
she could bring herself to recover she would be strong enough to return to Phil’s
embrace to grow as always.
Phil is waiting. The plant-lover is tending. Lily is dying.
Life will run it’s intended course, as always.
Time will tell.
