Dad's Plant

When my dad passed away 24 years ago, my mother decided to sell the house and move to a warmer climate.  She asked me what I wanted from the house and among a number of items I requested, I asked for a large green plant that had been near the back door for almost 20 years.  An odd request she thought but she gave me the plant.  You see, this plant was my dad's.  He watered it every day, carefully removed any dead leaves and rotated the pot once a week.  It was a routine for him and I remember how we made fun of how this was the only plant his green thumb could keep alive.  24 years later, this plant is still alive and growing by my front door.  It's watered every day, the dead leaves are carefully removed and its rotated in the planter once a week.  It reminds me of my dad and how he is still with me in a way.  There are times I will look at the plant and its leaves are drooping a bit and it seems almost unhappy that because of winter the sun is not out or there is no warm breeze caressing its leaves because of course the door cannot be left open.  It reminds me that sometimes I feel down and trapped inside by winter and miss the warmth of the sun and soft caress of a breeze in the spring.  Then there are days like today where the leaves are standing straight and tall and looking quite happy as if something or someone just gave the plant a little boost in some way.  There are days like that with me.  I can be feeling quite unhappy and then there will be that little boost...a facebook message from my son wishing me a happy day, a picture of my grandpuppy with his newest toy, a joke from a friend or a small surprise from my husband to make me smile.  But most of the time, when I see the plant looking tall, straight and reaching for the sun, I remember daddy.  Because that was my dad...standing straight and tall who lived his life as big as he could right up to the day he died.