When I was a kid, I planted a peach tree with my mum. I still vividly remember the day we dug a hole in the garden between two apple trees and planted it. I was so excited to have my own tree.
That tree was the first time I helped to grow something of my own. It was one of the only times in my childhood where I had such direct contact with nature. Don’t get me wrong, I went out and played outside a lot as well. But I’d never had a hand in making something natural grow.
Something that will live and continue to prosper long after I’m gone. The tree will strengthen over time and bear fruit for so many others. Bringing them joy as much as it did me.
My peach tree was the last thing for over a decade that I was able to keep alive. Trust me when I say I was not born with a natural green thumb. When I moved to university, I bought a rose bush and a peace lily to decorate my dorm room. Or more precisely, I managed to persuade my dad to invest in some foliage for a very bland and sad looking space. He agreed.
The lily lasted just over a year. The rose bush…it was the first in a long line of attempts to become a rose mother. Let me tell you, you do not know disappointment until you see leaves turning brown and a plant wilting.
It would drive me mad trying to keep them going. I felt like it was some sort of sign of my failure. How could I possibly manage to kill something that was suppose to be so simple to keep alive? Every twiglike rose bush, a personal attack on my capability.
Especially when a friend of mine looked after my sad looking plants while I was away for a month and they came back glowing. They looked like they’d spent four weeks at a nature spa. I was in awe of her ability and also felt a little betrayed by my plants. Don’t worry I’m fully aware how unhinged it is to be annoyed at something that is not sentient. But I was nonetheless.
Then they all started to die again a few weeks later and I was done.
I decided, after years of trying, plants were not my forte and that no matter what I did, they hated me. So why should I bother spending anymore time and money on them?
It made me feel like all my effort had been wasted. Sometimes that’s how I felt about things in the rest of my life, too. I would feel so frustrated when things I’d worked towards or wanted didn’t turn out the way I planned or expected.
I gave up on my plants because they were too difficult and hurt my pride.
Then I started having issues with health and my body. It was harder than anything else I’d been through and there were times I wasn’t able to go out as much as I wanted. I missed the outdoors and I missed having control in my life.
A neighbour of mine every year or so puts cuttings of their plants out on the street for anyone to take for free. They’re potted and partially grown so all you need is to care for them. I remember seeing them one morning on my way to work and being intrigued, but uncertain. I didn’t grab any, partly because I couldn’t take any with me to work, but also because I knew what their fate would be with me. In the afternoon, at least half were still present. She asked me to please take the rest as she didn’t have the space and wanted someone to enjoy them. Worried that they would just get chucked out, I ended up taking them all home, with the help of my mum.
It turned out to be one of my better decisions. For the past two years, I have nurtured those plants. There are a range. Spider Plants, Aloe Veras, succulents. I poured myself into growing them. I wanted to bring the outdoors inside for the days when I can’t go out. And I am so proud to say that every single one of them is still alive to this day.
Now that I’m older, I understand better how plants from supermarkets work. Often they’re over packed into small pots which causes the plants to struggle after a while and then suffer. This is not to say I didn’t contribute to the number of plant deaths over the years, but maybe it wasn’t all my fault that my roses didn’t last very long.
After having this realisation, I understood that it wasn’t that I wasn’t good enough to keep them alive. They just weren’t the right plant for me. I needed to try something different. These new plants genuinely give me so much joy. Seeing them thrive, and sprout new leaves or flowers, makes me happy.
Perhaps I’m reading too much into this situation. But I believe it has taught me not to always see the negative out of failure. Things I want will not always be perfect. They may struggle, may need more watering than I expect, or sometimes less. No matter what though, I am capable enough to work it out.
My peach tree grew its first edible peaches last year. We got to them before the squirrels thank goodness! It was a miracle. After over 15 years, we finally saw the fruits of my labour. Literally. And so yes, life isn’t always peachy. But when it decides to be tough, at least I have a chance to eat a fresh peach from my own tree.
From just A Simple Writer.
