Mother’s Day, 2024

Last year I received a gift of a small orchid from a friend. She brought it along to our foursome dinner at my favorite neighborhood restaurant and gave it to me, with a hug, as a greeting. Less than two days later, she was shockingly gone from this earth. A cardiac event took her instantly, leaving her husband of many years, and all who valued her presence, reeling in shock.

For nearly a year, I’ve been nurturing this little plant. While I have had a handful of my houseplants for decades, orchids and jade trees have always left me vexed. I never could seem to determine what these plants needed me to give them. Was it more or less water? Sunshine, shade or something in between? Fertilizer? A larger pot or warmer spot?

Invariably they died.

But, this new orchid? I needed it to live. Wren gave it to me and now she was gone and, damnit, it was my responsibility to keep this little moth orchid alive.

I’ve tried so hard. Teeny sips of water, partial sun, a place on the shelf without drafts or direct light. About 6 months in to tending my orchid, a new leaf emerged and quickly grew. A nub of a root appeared encouraging my attention and giving me hope that I had finally, perhaps with Wren’s intervention from beyond, found the right combination of care and disregard to encourage growth.

But, a couple of months ago I noticed some sort of disease on the plant’s leaves. I’ve seen these bumps on other plants before and have been able to successfully usher them through to a return to good health. I removed the bumps and carefully washed the leaves with mild soapy water. I gave the plant a larger pot in which to hopefully thrive and a new home on the windowsill in my kitchen where I can see it every day.

The jury remains out on whether this plant is going to survive, but I noticed a teeny new leaf, a sign of life which I’m going to hold tightly to, this week. Today, as I reflected on this annual holiday designed to commercialize one of life’s most difficult endeavors, it seemed to me that my struggles with this orchid mirrored the challenges of being a mother.

Being a mother can feel like walking a constant tightrope. Finding the correct balance of supportive encouragement, careful tending and hands off tough love feels like trying to hit a target which is in perpetual motion. Knowing what your child needs at any given time is a guessing game with the success of your efforts revealed at a time in the future which, if you’re fortunate, you get to witness.

There’s little about mothering that is easy and, from what I can see, it’s an endeavor that never ends, if we’re lucky. To all the moms I know, of children, pets or plants, I send my best wishes and hopes that, at least for the day, your efforts to nurture and grow a living being are honored and celebrated. Happy Mother’s Day.