Rescued by a Cutie from Beyond the Veil

A charming tale about the persistence of life.

Many years ago…sometime after my sweet daughter Nicole died from leukemia…I decided to buy a plant that reminded me of her joyful playfulness and happy energy; something with bright blossoms that needed little care. Nicole was well aware of my abysmal plant-growing skills, so it wasn’t a total shock as I walked the aisles of Lowe’s outdoor gardening area, that I distinctly heard a giggly voice in my head say, “run, little plants, run!”

I settled on a lovely pink Bougainvillea, took that plant home, re-potted it, and over the years it came with me through various house moves, always in varying states of “aliveness”. Sometimes it had a splash of beautiful pink blossoms, sometimes it was bare, and more than once when I couldn’t get it to bloom no matter what I did, I cut it right back.

It’s been in my current home for the past 18 years, moved from pot to pot, trying to get it to return to the original state it was in when I bought it. Once after an attempt to get it to bloom, I talked to Nicole and said I hadn’t heard from her in a while and could she send me a sign. A few days later, I was shocked to see the Bougainvillea covered in a mass of flowers, as if they had popped up overnight! I had not done one thing differently, yet there it was in all its beauty. Yet, it wasn’t to last because, well, me.

If there were a hospice for plants mine would live there. Not long ago, it returned to life-support. It had declined again, with barely even a green leaf, and I had been trying to find just the right location with enough sunlight to sustain it. I had all but given up on it because by now, it was nothing but a couple stumps of bare wood, so I decided to take it out of the pot it had been in for ages and plant it in the ground. Bad idea.

Nearby plants cast too much shade on it. It fell into an even worse condition. But I couldn’t let it go. I refused to believe that it was really dead this time, in spite of all appearances to the contrary. When I took it out of the ground and put it in a small pot, it had not one hint of green on it. By now it was down to a forlorn stump, but one morning I noticed it had one tiny green leaf and within a few days, a few more green sprouts. I talked to Nicole and promised her I would give it one more chance and as much love and care as I could. So, I re-potted it yet again, added a mix of fresh compost and potting soil, gave it a generous dash of Bougainvillea fertilizer, put it where I hoped the shifting sunlight in my yard would cover it for just enough time each day, and I waited.

Nicole rewarded me for my love and persistence as you can see. This plant represents a really important concept to me, and I love to share it with clients who are in deep grief because it’s such a great metaphor for the truth about existence.

When someone we love dies, it is tempting to think that they are gone, but there is so much going on in ways our human eyes can’t see. Just because life seems to have been extinguished, it does not mean life has ceased to exist. It is always there, quietly waiting for us. We just have to believe and return again and again to the place in our hearts where our connection remains.

Final note; this Bougainvillea, at least 23 years old, has taken off so successfully that its long tendrils were becoming a bit unruly, so I very randomly, without any particular plan, tucked them into the fence. I looked at it through my window later and realized it was in the shape of a heart.

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